


just starting to crawl

by lucylikestowrite



Series: sq au verse [3]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/F, Kid Fic, Light Angst, Mild Smut, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2020-12-09 11:41:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 55,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20994236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucylikestowrite/pseuds/lucylikestowrite
Summary: Sara looks up, rips off the bandaid. “Did you ever think you might want to… have another kid?” She forces herself to keep looking at Ava, determined not to miss any of Ava’s reaction.And it’s worth it, because suddenly, there’s a smile breaking on Ava’s face. “With you?”“No. With Gary.” Ava rolls her eyes, shaking her head. “Yes, with me,” Sara says. “Is that… is that a yes?”or: the sqau sequel





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> here's the thing, guys. i've been working on this for almost a year. it's not finished yet. i /promise/ it will be finished, but i can't say when. i can't say it will be done in ten weeks like my other multi-chapters have been. but i'm stuck and have been for a while and need some feedback to keep me going. 
> 
> i will say this: i have eight chapters written. they're all this length. so, because of that, i'm gonna spread them out a bit. probably every two weeks, if not longer. hopefully i will be inspired to finish off the fic, but if not, when i run out of chapters, the fic might go on hiatus a bit. i hope y'all understand. i'm a full time law student also battling anxiety and depression so things are tough sometimes.
> 
> with that out the way, all i need to say is warning: this contains all the various things one might expect for a fic about two cis women trying to have a kid (although no sex with men, dw). obviously i'm not gonna be describing things in excruciating detail, but if that's not your shit, then you won't like this.
> 
> and now, on with the show....

It hits Sara out of the blue, when she’s out in Starling one day. It hits her so hard that she’s stuck, stood stock still in the middle of the sidewalk.

She hadn’t even thought about it until right that second, hadn’t even considered it, but now it’s all she can think of. And then her heart drops, because this is absolutely something they should’ve talked to before they fell into this, but Sara had been so sure about Ava that she hadn’t thought to have this discussion.

It’s not a dealbreaker. Nothing would be a dealbreaker for Sara. But it’s all she can think of, all she can think of through the entirety of the walk home, through the time she spends helping Charlotte with homework, through the whole of dinner. She’s suddenly terrified, but she also knows she has to ask Ava that evening, or she’ll never ask. So, that evening, after Charlotte has gone to bed, when they’re curled up on the sofa, Ava’s arm wrapped around Sara’s body, Sara takes a deep breath, and then turns to Ava.

“Babe?”

“Mmm?” Ava asks, turning to look at her. When she sees how serious Sara’s face is, her expression changes to match. “Are you okay?”

“I need to ask you something,” Sara says, looking down, not knowing how to say this. “We should’ve… we should’ve talked about this before. Before we got together. But we didn't, so I'm asking you now.”

Ava’s face twists further into worry. “Sara? What are you talking about? You’re not— you’re not having second thoughts?” Her lip wobbles a little, and her arm is getting slightly less tight around Sara.

Sara shakes her head, looking down again, at her fingers. She’s making a mess of this. “No. No. Whatever you say, it doesn’t change anything. I love you. I just… I just need to know. Whatever you say, that’s… that’s one hundred percent fine.”

Ava’s jaw is clenched, worry tingeing every single line of her body. “Sara… I don’t… what? What are we talking about?”

Sara looks up, rips off the bandaid. “Did you ever think you might want to… have another kid?” She forces herself to keep looking at Ava, determined not to miss any of Ava’s reaction.

And it’s worth it, because suddenly, there’s a smile breaking on Ava’s face. “With you?”

“No. With Gary.” Ava rolls her eyes, shaking her head. “Yes, with me,” Sara says. “Is that… is that a yes?”

“I mean… is that what_ you_ want?” Ava asks, biting her lip.

“Yes,” Sara says, firm, finally voicing the need she’s felt every since she saw a woman who reminded her vaguely of Ava in the park, holding a newborn baby, and had been hit with an overwhelming need for another child, one she could raise with Ava. One she could get to see Ava raising. “But if you don’t want that, if you’re done, then that’s fine. Charlotte’s enough, more than enough, more than I could’ve ever hoped for, and I—”

Ava cuts her off, leaning over to kiss her, both of her hands on Sara’s face. When she pulls back, she’s smiling again. “I want that, Sara. I want that so much.”

“You do?”

Ava nods. “Yeah, darling. I want that. I want another kid. I’ve wanted that… I’ve wanted that practically since we got together.” Her voice is so earnest it almost hurts.

That’s six months. Six months of wanting in silence and not voicing that desire.

“You never said anything,” Sara says. “I’m sorry if I made you think you couldn’t talk about it. I never even… I never even considered it until today. You could’ve told me, baby.”

Ava shrugs. “It’s okay. It just… we never talked about it before so I kinda just assumed you… you didn’t want that, and I didn’t… I didn’t want to do anything that could jeopardize this, because, you know, this is so important, to me and to you and to Charlotte and I couldn’t— I couldn’t risk that for a hypothetical future kid.”

“Oh, Ava.” Sara feels a horrible sadness in her stomach. “You could’ve told me. I’m invested. I meant what I said. I’m not letting anything get in between us. I’m not letting anything hurt us. You can tell me anything. I promise. Anything.”

Ava sighs. “Yeah. No. I know. I know that now. It just… when we were just starting, everything was so perfect but also… precarious, you know? I couldn’t risk that.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I understand why you didn’t. Just…” she sighs, tilting her head to look at Ava properly, reaching out a hand to stroke over her cheek. “Just know you can tell me anything.”

“And, I mean… it just didn’t seem like my place to suggest it, since, you know, if it’s going to be one of _us_, it has to be—”

“Me. Yeah, I know, baby.” She’d already thought through all of that, had made sure she was absolutely at peace with the idea of going through it again before she suggested it to Ava. “I know. I’ve already thought about it.”

“And you’d do it again?”

“Yeah, babe, I would.”

“You’d have another kid? With me?” Ava’s voice sounds close to breaking. Her eyes are watering.

“Yes. Yes.” Sara pulls Ava in for another kiss, whispering it into her mouth. “Yes. Yes.” When she breaks the kiss, she stays where they are, foreheads touching. “Not yet. Not right away. But I… I want that. For our future.”

Ava’s eyes are closed, a blissful smile on her face. Sara just stays silent for a couple of seconds, watching Ava’s chest rise and fall.

And then Ava speaks, her voice hardly more than a whisper. “Does that mean we’re doing it, then? At some point? We’re gonna have another kid? We’re really gonna do that? Or try for that?” Her expression is open and hopeful and honest and there is no doubt in Sara’s mind that Ava wants this as much as Sara does.

“Mmhmm,” Sara says, content. “Yeah. We are.” She takes a breath, closes her eyes. When she opens them, they’re wide. “Holy shit, Ava. We’re gonna have another kid. I’m going to have another kid.” She pauses again. “I never thought— I never thought I’d be here. After I gave Charlotte up, I was convinced that was it for me and kids. I never thought I’d… I never thought I’d feel safe enough with anyone or trust anyone enough to get pregnant and know they’d be there through the whole thing. But now...” she cuts herself off, trying not to cry. Still, tears leak from her eyes, and Ava reaches up, wipes them away. “I’ve never felt safer than when I’m with you, Ava.”

Ava lets out a breath, a sad smile on her face. “I got you, Sara. Always. Always. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“I know. I know.”

Ava is still smiling, and she leans over, pressing her mouth to Sara's forehead. When she pulls back, she speaks again, her voice a whisper against Sara's skin. “Okay. Since we've talked about that, I guess I should ask… Would you ever… would you ever want to get married?”

She says it's so quietly that Sara almost doesn't catch it.

She pulls back, looks Ava in the eyes. “Yeah, babe. I want that as well.”

Ava grins. “Really? You want that?”

“Yeah. I mean. Again. Not right now. Everything's changed so much and I need. I need a bit of time. Probably… after the baby, if we do that. Weddings take time and I want to do it properly and I’m not getting any younger, you know, so I think… baby first. But. Yeah. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Aves.”

Ava is still smiling, so bright it almost hurts. Love blossoms in Sara's chest, and she leans in, kisses her again, weaving her hands in her hair.

When she pulls back, the beam is still on Ava's face. In their laps, she toys with Sara's fingers. “I'm so glad we talked about this, Sara. It's important we did.”

Sara looks down. “I'm sorry we didn't talk about this _before_. We should've talked about this before—”

Ava cuts her off with a finger on her lips, tilting her chin back upwards. “Hey. Sara. It's okay. It doesn't matter. It's important we talked about it at _some _point, but we didn't need to do it before we got together. None of this was a deal breaker for me. I need you to understand that. I would've been happy staying like this with you and Lottie forever.

“Even if nothing ever changed between us, that would've been enough, because all I wanted when we got together was you. That was the only thing I was taking for granted. That I'd have you. I wasn't expecting marriage or babies or anything. It wasn't a deal breaker. Was it for you? Is that why you're worried about this?”

“No,” Sara says, and it's completely honest. “No. All I needed was you,” she breathes. “You and Charlotte. I didn't need anything else when we got together. I wasn't thinking about anything else. So… this is all just… a bonus.”

“Then it's fine, Sara. We've talked about it. And we're on the same page. So it's fine.”

“Okay. Yeah.” Sara nods, smiling. “It's fine,” she echoes.

“Yeah, babe, it is.” Ava reaches up, stroking her thumb over Sara's temple. She tilts her head, as if examining Sara's face. “God, you're beautiful,” she murmurs. “I love you so much.” Sara feels flush rise on her cheeks. “You're so beautiful, Sara.”

And then Ava's shifting them, pressing Sara backwards, lying her back against the cushions of the couch. Her hand splays on Sara's cheek, and when she kisses her, it's urgent, her body pressing down against Sara's. Thirty seconds later, her mouth moves away from Sara’s, and she's kissing down Sara's jaw, down her neck, across the skin on show. It feels so good that Sara forgets to breathe, forgets to do anything except feel, until Ava's hands are reaching for the buttons on Sara’s shirt, popping them open easily, her mouth moving towards Sara’s breasts, and she's snapped back to reality.

She pushes Ava away, two hands on her shoulders, gasping for breath. “Baby. Not here. Not here, remember?”

Ava blinks, then nods. “Right. Right. Upstairs. A door that can lock. Got it.”

She pulls Sara up into a sitting position. Sara's legs are still wrapped around her waist, and Ava pauses for a second to kiss her again, licking inside. Sara sighs, then goes to move her legs away, to stand up—and then Ava stops her, gripping down on Sara’s thighs, pushing up from the couch, Sara still in her arms.

Sara gasps, wrapping her arms around Ava’s neck, tilting her head to whisper in Ava’s ear. “Since when have you been able to do this?” She moves her mouth down, licking a stripe down Ava’s neck, and Ava shivers, lets out a breath.

“I might have been working out a little more,” Ava says, quietly, her eyes wide, like Sara might not like this.

“A little bit?” Sara murmurs, nipping at Ava’s skin, eliciting another almost gasp from Ava, and is rewarded for the gesture when her back hits the wall, Ava pressing her up against it, finding her mouth again, kissing, hard.

When Ava pulls back, as far as Sara’s legs still wrapped around her waist will let her, she’s blushing, and it’s adorable. “Okay. Quite a bit.”

Sara smirks, tilting her head, leaning further back against the wall. “Just so you could lift me up?”

“Not… entirely?” Ava says, saying it like it’s a question, like she’s not sure what Sara wants to hear.

“Baby,” Sara says again, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, for this,” Ava concedes.

Sara smiles, pulling Ava back in for a kiss, softer this time, before tapping Ava's hands. “Let me down, babe.” Ava actually pouts, but let's Sara go, her feet hitting the ground lightly. “You're not carrying me up the stairs. I don't want to be the one to tell Charlotte her— moms broke their necks because one of them was trying to be sexy.”

She pauses slightly before the word ‘moms.’ Ava notices, but doesn’t say anything. Charlotte isn’t calling Sara mom. Not yet. But they’ve just started referring to each other like that, and Charlotte seems content to do that, if she’s talking about both of them. Still, Sara always slightly hesitates when she says it.

Ava rolls her eyes, but pulls Sara out of the room. “You think it's sexy?” she asks, as she leads Sara up the stairs.

When they reach the top, the light in Charlotte’s room down the hall is off, which is a good sign. Sometimes they've made it this far, only to realise she's still awake, and have had to hastily lower their voices, pull away from each other, in case she happens to wander out.

Sara steps closer to Ava. “It,” she whispers, moving so close they're breathing the same air, “is incredibly sexy.” That's apparently all Ava needs, because the next thing Sara knows, she's in Ava's arms again, being walked backwards towards their room. Ava presses her up against the door. Ava shakes her head, ducking her head to kiss Sara's breasts, uses one hand to carefully pull the buttons on Sara's shirt open further. Sara laughs, quietly. “Can't that wait? Like, until you're not supporting my entire body weight?”

Ava sucks down hard, and Sara stops breathing again, her head spinning. All she can do is wrap her arms and legs tighter around Ava, and try to concentrate on not falling.

Not that she believes Ava would let her fall.

Eventually, though, sense rushes through her again. “Baby,” she breathes. “Lottie. Let's get inside.”

“I'm listening for her,” Ava whispers, and Sara knows that's true. She doesn't need to be told twice to think of Charlotte. But, still. Everything's going to be easier once they have another door between them, so Sara reaches down, pushing it open behind her.

Ava takes the hint, walks them through, closing the door behind them, turning the lock, and then immediately pressing Sara back against it, going back to work, sucking at Sara's skin.

Sara just clutches onto Ava, fingers weaving in her hair. Gasps escape from her mouth as Ava nips at her skin, her fingers digging into Sara’s thighs. Eventually, it's too much. Heat is rising fast and hard between her legs, not helped by the way her centre is pressed up against Ava’s stomach, faint lines of muscle clear through the fabric. “Baby. Baby. Let me down. I need you. _Please._”

And Ava does, almost immediately. Sara sighs when her feet touch the ground—and then groans when Ava doesn’t move them away from the door, when Ava reaches underneath Sara’s sweatpants, pulling them down with a thumb hooked under the waistband, when she crouches, nips at Sara’s inner thighs, and goes to pull down Sara’s underwear, right there, against the door.

Sara’s legs threaten to give way before Ava’s even done anything, and she grabs at Ava’s wrist, stopping Ava with two fingers as she's getting ready to get rid of the panties. Ava looks up, licks her lips, her expression hungry. “I thought you needed me?” Ava asks, raising an eyebrow.

“On the _bed_, Ava,” Sara gasps out. “Not _here_.”

Ava rolls her eyes, but complies, standing back up, but not before she’s had a chance to pull Sara’s sweatpants fully off of her legs. Sara smiles, presses up on her toes, kisses her, pushing her backwards, towards the bed. Ava undoes the rest of Sara’s buttons, chucking the shirt on the floor. Sara pulls the oversized sweater over Ava’s head quickly. She’s gloriously naked underneath it, and Sara smiles at the sight. “Mmm,” she hums in approval, skating her hands over all the skin suddenly on show. “Love it when you make it easy for me.”

Laughing, Ava lets herself get pushed backwards, smiling when she hits the sheets, when Sara straddles her. Sara leans down, her hair falling into Ava’s face. “I need your mouth, Ava.”

Ava raises an eyebrow again. “You do?”

Sara sighs, mock frustration on her face. “Come on, Ava, we’ve got a baby to make.”

Ava presses her lips together, narrowing her eyes, looking at Sara like she’s not one hundred percent sure she’s joking. “I don’t think that’s how it works, babe.”

Sara rolls her hips against Ava, puts a thoughtful expression on her face. “You’re saying you eating me out _won’t_ get me pregnant?”

“No. Don’t think so.” Ava laughs, running her hands over Sara’s hips. 

“Well,” Sara says, leaning down again, kissing Ava quickly, “in that case, we’ve got a baby to _not _make, and we better get on with it.”

Ava frowns. “That doesn’t—”

“Mm-mmm,” Sara says, one finger on Ava’s lips, the other on her breast, circling lightly. “Don’t talk. There are so many better things your mouth could be doing.” Ava’s eyes get slightly darker, and she lets Sara guide her hand back to Sara’s panties, pulls them down obediently. “Come on, Aves. Let’s not make a baby.”

“Fine,” Ava says, still shaking her head a little. Sara leans back down, kissing her, teasing her mouth open.

“You gotta say it, Aves,” Sara says, grinding with more purpose against Ava’s stomach.

“You’re ridiculous,” Ava says, but her hands are roaming over Sara’s back, nails digging in ever so slightly.

“Say it,” Sara says, kissing a line down Ava’s neck, expertly making Ava melt into her mouth.

Ava sighs, and when she speaks again, her tone is half resignation, half arousal. “Let’s not make a baby,” she says, her breath hitching when Sara bites down the tiniest bit.

Sara smiles in approval, presses back up to kiss her, to kiss the look off Ava’s face. “That’s my girl,” she whispers, and, at the sound of her words, the last remnants of exasperation melt away from Ava’s expression, relaxing back into love, and everything's perfect.

Over the next few weeks, they talk the decision over what seems like dozens of times, going over every detail of how it's going to happen, of how things would change, what would stay the same, and they're finally ready to tell Charlotte, to let her know that this is something that might be happening—at least at some point in the future.

Not yet. That's one of the things they talk through. Sara isn't ready yet, doesn't think she'll be ready for at least another year, maybe more. They've only been together six months, and she's still adjusting. They're still both adjusting. _Charlotte_ is still adjusting. So she's not ready yet. They agree that she has complete control over when she wants to start trying. That she just has to say the word, and they will, but, until then, Ava isn't going to push her, isn't going to hurry her up.

Ava doesn't even hesitate before agreeing to that, doesn't even have to think before accepting that easily, and it's one of the many reasons why Sara is completely and utterly in love with her. “It's completely up to you, babe,” she whispers, her arms tight around Sara. “It's your body. I would never— I'd never push you. You know that, right?”

Sara nods, her eyes closed. Ava presses a kiss to her forehead, and then smiles, and Sara can feel it against her skin.

When Ava speaks again, her voice is slightly more hesitant. “And you know— you know that if you were never ready, or if you changed your mind and you don't want this anymore, I'd be completely okay with that, right? I meant what I said. I don't need more than Charlotte and you.”

Sara nods again. “No. Yeah. I know, baby. I know.”

Ava smiles, stroking her fingers through Sara's hair. “And, you know, it's not the only option. If you still wanted another kid, but didn't want to be pregnant again—there are other options. We could adopt again. We could foster. I just— I need you to know that there's no pressure for you to have to do this again.”

“I know. I know. It's okay, Ava. There's no pressure. I _want_ this. I want to have another kid, and I'm going to let you know as soon as I'm ready.” Ava nods, smiles, draws Sara in for a kiss. Her lips are soft, her fingers even more so. When Ava pulls back, Sara looks at her, eyes wide. “You think we've talked it through enough to tell Lottie? At least that it's something that _might_ be happening?”

Ava nods again. Her fingers intertwine absentmindedly with Sara’s, stroking her thumb over the skin of Sara's hand. “Yeah. I think so. I want her to know.” She pauses. “And, you know, if she hates the idea, maybe we... maybe we reconsider. Or push it back. I don’t know. I don’t— Fuck I don’t know. I wouldn’t want to do it if she hated the idea.” She looks up at Sara, her expression suddenly nervous. “Is that… is that bad? Should we not be thinking about her? I'm so used to making every decision while thinking about her.” Her voice is getting faster. “I love you, Sara. I want to have another kid with you. But I'm always going to—”

“Hey,” Sara says, interrupting Ava, her hands either side of Ava's face. “Hey. Baby. Calm. It's okay. Obviously it's important to know what Lottie thinks. She hasn't exactly had a normal time of it the past couple of years. We should ask what she thinks. If she hates it…” Sara trails off, shrugging. “Maybe we _do _reconsider. But the most important thing is that we tell her well in advance. It gives us all time.”

Ava sniffs, and when she speaks again, her voice is a low whisper. “I’m sorry. I feel like… I feel like I'm admitting that I—” she chokes on her words, blinking, looking down. After ten seconds of silence, she steels herself. When she speaks, her voice is so quiet it's almost impossible to hear, and it's wavering with each word. “I feel like I'm admitting that I love her more than you. That I'd choose her. I'm sorry.”

Sara's heart breaks, but not at the admission, but that Ava thinks it's something to apologise for. “Ava. Baby. Please. Look at me.” Ava does, her lip wobbling, tears welling up in her eyes. “She's your daughter. If you wouldn't choose her, you wouldn't be the woman I fell in love with. I love you. I love you so much it _hurts_, but our love for her is always going to be different, and that's okay. If we didn't take her thoughts into consideration, we wouldn't be us.” Sara pauses, then smiles, her hands still on Ava's face. “I mean. Look. You remember one of the first things you ever said to me?”

Ava smiles a weak smile. “I try not to. I don't like thinking about when we didn't like each other.”

Sara almost laughs. “That's fair. But I still think about it, because we wouldn't be here if you hadn't pushed me into seeing that having a kid is about doing what's best for them, not for you. So I haven't stopped thinking about that. Not when I was staying away from you because I thought it was what was best for her. Not when I realised that us being together was actually what's best for her. Not now. And I'm not going to stop thinking about that, ever. I'm always going to be thinking of her, and I wouldn't know who _you_ were if you weren't thinking about that.

“So it's okay. We talk to Charlotte. I'm almost certain she's gonna love the idea, but if she doesn't, we will _absolutely _reconsider. Talk through it with her. Understand what the problem is. Nothing less. She's our daughter, she's old enough to have a say and an opinion, and I wouldn't _dare_ suggest that we just ignore her, okay? I love you partly because of how much you love her. You're always going to love her differently. Maybe more. Maybe just differently. I know that. That's okay. _I _love her differently. And _that's_ okay.”

A tear leaks out from Ava’s eye, and she lets out a breath of relief.

“Really? That's okay?”

“God, it’s more than okay. All I need is for you to love me. I never wanted you to have to prioritise your daughter over me.”

Ava smiles through the tears. “I love you. I do. I love you so much, Sara.”

Sara moves her fingers to wipe the tears away. “That's all I need. But, really, babe, I don't think you don't need to worry about this. Charlotte's going to be okay with this, I can feel it. But if she's not, we know what we're going to do. It's okay.”

Ava nods. “Yeah. Okay. It's okay. I just— we decided we were going to do this and I— I didn't want to be the one to put the kibosh on that.”

Sara shakes her head. “Babe. We just spent the past couple of weeks agreeing that I could change my mind if I wanted to. You really think I wouldn't let you change yours? You think I'd force _you _to go through with it if you didn't want to? Whether it was because of Charlotte or literally anything else?”

Ava looks indignant. “No, I didn't think that. I wouldn't think you'd do that, of course not, why would you—” and then she cuts off, realisation on her face. “Oh. It's exactly the same, isn't it?”

Sara smiles fondly. “Yeah, Ava, it is. We're in this together. We're going into this together, or not at all. And if we don't do it, then that is okay. That's okay. I need to know we're both on the same page about that.”

Ava sighs. “Yeah. No. We are. We are. We do this together or not at all. You're right. I'm sorry.”

“Don't apologise, baby. It's okay. We're on the same page, that's all that matters. That's all that matters,” Sara says, before pulling Ava in for a kiss, pressing their lips together tightly, holding Ava close, needing to reassure her, reassure her that they're okay, that they're a team. She shifts slightly, never breaking the kiss, until she's in Ava's lap, and she can feel Ava relax exactly how Sara wanted, exactly how she does every time Sara deposits herself in her lap.

Ava's arms wrap tight around her, melting into the kiss. Sara breaks the kiss, murmuring words against Ava's lips, carding her fingers through Ava's hair. “It's okay, baby. It's okay. Just relax. Just let me make you feel good. You don't have to worry. I got you.”

Ava just sighs, nods, lets Sara kiss down her neck, pull open the tie of her robe, slip her hands underneath.

Lets Sara lay her down, kiss down her body. “Just relax. We got this.”

Ava lets out a breath. “Yeah. We got this.”

They're at the dinner table when Ava brings it up. “Lottie, honey? We need to talk to you.”

Charlotte looks up, setting her fork down slowly. Her eyes dart between the two of them. “You guys aren't… breaking up, are you?” she asks, her voice small.

“No!” Ava says, quickly. “No. No. Why would you think that?”

Charlotte shrugs, shrinking into herself. “I don't know. Just… the last time you said you wanted to talk, it was to tell me your were together. I thought maybe things weren't going as well as I thought they were. You guys almost managed to hide that you were together. I figured you could probably hide if you were fighting.”

Ava sighs. “No, sweetie. We're not breaking up. Promise. We're doing great.”

Sara just nods.

Charlotte narrows her eyes. “Then what is it? Is it about me? My school? The house? Wait, are we moving—”

“No, Charlotte,” Sara says, interrupting her. “None of those things. We just wanted to… sound something out with you. Get your opinion.”

She still looks suspicious. “You really want my opinion, or you just want to tell me so you’ve told me and then go ahead with it anyway, whatever I say?”

Ava looks hurt. “Baby. We care about you. We're asking because we care about your opinion.”

“Hmm,” Charlotte says, picking her fork back up, spooning some pasta into her mouth. “Okay. Fine. What's the question?”

Ava glances at Sara, widening her eyes in one last check. Sara nods, minutely.

“We—me and Sara—have been thinking a lot these last couple of weeks, and we've decided that we'd like, at some point in the future, to have another kid.” Charlotte’s fork clatters onto the plate. Her mouth drops open.

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, baby,” Ava says, softly. “Would you like that? Having a baby sibling? We wanted to ask you how you felt because, well, you're old enough to have an opinion about this, and you've been through a lot, you know, with finding Sara and everything that happened after and—we care about what you think, Lottie.”

“You're going to have another kid?” Charlotte repeats, her mouth open, looking at Sara, pointing her fork at her. “You're going to have another kid? Like. Get pregnant and have a real baby?”

Sara nods. “Yeah. How would you feel about that?”

And then Charlotte beams, and the tension in Sara's chest releases. “_Obviously _I want that. I've always wanted a baby sibling! But it was never going to happen because, you know, there was only Mom. Now there's both of you. There's going to be a real life _baby_? In the _house?” _she asks, her eyes wide, her voice nothing but excitement.

“Yeah, baby. If it works out. There's a lot of… there's a lot of steps to it, but we want to try, at least. It's important to us that we try,” Ava says. “It won't be for a while. But if you're okay with it, Lottie, then… we might really do it.” She looks at Sara, beams, reaches for Sara's hand, squeezes. “You might really end up with a little brother or sister.”

Charlotte smiles back, picks up her fork. “Cool. That's so cool. I love it. Can I name them? Can they stay in my room? Can I hold them? Will you let me look after them?”

She's shooting out questions at a mile a minute, and Ava holds out a hand. “Woah there. One question at a time.”

Charlotte takes a breath, considers for a second, then says, “Can I name them? I have some great names.”

Sara raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Mmm-hmm. I named all my dolls.”

Sara keeps looking at her, incredulous. “Lottie. Aren't all of your dolls named things like Princess Sparkle Diamond?”

Ava laughs, and Charlotte looks indignant. “Yes. But I was like _six _when I named them. I'm much more mature now.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I'd drop the ‘Princess’. Just Sparkle Diamond.”

At that, Sara laughs as well, reaching across to ruffle Charlotte's hair. “You can help us pick, baby, but maybe not have full control.”

Charlotte pouts, but recovers quickly. “Okay. Can I ask my other questions now?”

Ava nods. “Sure, baby. Shoot.”

They talk about it for hours, all the way through dinner, through clearing up, Ava sitting at the island in the kitchen, watching as Sara cleans up, as Charlotte attempts to help, still chattering away with questions. Clearing up only takes twenty minutes though, and after that, they gravitate into the living room, wine in Ava and Sara's hands, and settle down on the couch with her between them, still answering.

By the time Charlotte goes up to bed, Sara is sure they've exhausted all avenues of questions she could ask, including ones about the exact biological specifics of it, which they'd agreed they'd just be upfront about, because, after all, she's almost twelve.

She finishes her glass of wine, and then looks at Ava, tracing patterns on her palm with her finger.

“You want another glass? Want to stay down here and watch something?”

Ava shakes her head. “No. Can we just go straight to bed?”

Sara raises an eyebrow. “In a ‘let’s go straight to bed to get it on’ kinda way, or a ‘lets go straight to bed to sleep’ kinda way?”

Ava sighs. “I'm tired. Can we just relax up there? I think talking through that all with her wore me out. I'm not in the right headspace for sex.”

Sara smiles. “Babe. Of course.” She pulls the glass out of Ava's hand, gets up, chucks them both in the dishwasher, and is back thirty seconds later. She holds out her hand, and Ava takes it, lets herself be pulled up. Sara presses up on her toes, dropping a light kiss on Ava's lip. “Let’s just relax, Ava.”

Ava smiles a relieved smile, follows Sara up the stairs. They change in silence, Sara not even hiding the way her eyes rake over Ava's body as she pulls her shirt and pants away from her limbs. Ava just blushes, looks down. When they're both changed, Sara steps closer, her hand on Ava’s waist. “Lemme help you relax, Ava,” she whispers.

Ava starts, pulls back. “I said no—”

Sara puts a finger up to her lips. “Shh. No. I know. No sex. I can kiss you though, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah. No. Sorry. I know you wouldn't— Sorry. My brain is frazzled. I didn't expect her to have so many questions. I _should've _expected that, but I didn't and I’m just—”

“Tense,” Sara finishes for her. “And stressed.” She leans in closer, pressing a kiss to Ava's jawline, pushing her back towards the bed. She doesn't do it quite as roughly as she might usually, makes sure it's not as charged with tension as it normally would be. Instead, its soft. Gentle. She doesn't push Ava onto her back, but instead just guides her until she's up against the pillows, tucked in under the covers. “Close your eyes. Everything's okay.”

Sara wraps her arms around Ava, holds her tight, just lays kisses on her skin, murmuring affirmations, until she can feel some of the tension dissipate, until Ava seems finally more relaxed. “Better?” Sara asks.

“Mmm,” Ava says. “Yeah. Thank you.”

Sara smiles. “Anytime.”

There's silence for a moment, and then there’s a knock on the door. “Mom? Sara?” Charlotte's voice is small. Quiet.

Ava sits up from where she was lain against Sara's chest. She glances at them both, obviously checking that they're decent. Sara reaches up, tucks some of Ava's hair back in place, putting her back together, then nods. Ava smiles, says, “Yeah, baby, you can come in.”

The door opens slowly, and Charlotte stands in the doorway, her face screwed up. Her whole body language is tense, and Sara's immediately worried. She glances to her left, and she can see that even if Ava's trying not to betray it on her face, she's worried as well.

“Can I talk to you guys?”

Ava squeezes down on Sara's hand quickly, as if for reassurance, and then draws it above the covers, shifting away from Sara to open up the space between them for Charlotte.

Charlotte takes the invitation without needing to be verbally asked, pushing the door closed, slowly crossing the room, before ending up at the bed, crawling up it, settling between them. Ava pulls the covers up over her, before reaching up to her hair, stroking carefully through it, tilting Charlotte’s head so she can meet her eyes properly.

“What's wrong, baby? You can tell us what's wrong.”

Charlotte tears her gaze away from Ava, settling back against the pillows, staring straight ahead.

“Yeah, Lottie,” Sara confirms, wrapping an arm around her. “You can tell us anything.”

Charlotte sniffs, and Sara's heart breaks, a chill spreading through her.

When Charlotte speaks, it's almost a whisper. “Do you want a new baby because— because I'm not— I'm not really _yours_? You want a baby that's— that's more— more _normal_ and less complicated and— and who you can love m— more and more easily because they'll be really properly both of yours…” she trails off, and there are tears streaming down her face. Every droplet is like an ice shard through Sara's heart. When she looks at Ava, there's an identical expression of horror on her face.

“No,” Ava says, roughly, and Sara can tell she's trying not to cry either. Her voice is thick. “No, Charlotte. No. No. Hey.” Her finger is on Charlotte's chin again, forcing her to look at Ava. Sara just lets her hand run over Charlotte's back, hoping it's soothing. “Look at me, baby. _Charlotte Anne Sharpe._ I'm talking to you.” At the sound of her full name, said in a voice that's both stern and reassuring, Charlotte seems to finally be paying proper attention. “Listen to me. I—” she cuts off, looks at Sara. “_We_ both love you more than anything else in the whole world.”

Sara nods, but Charlotte can't see that, so she says, “Yeah, Lottie, we do,” reaching a hand up to smooth her hair again, dropping a kiss on the top of her head.

“And you are absolutely, completely and utterly _ours_, okay? The new baby wouldn't be any more ours than you are. Do you hear me? You are _everything _to us, Lottie. Everything. We couldn't want anything _more_ than you. You're perfect as you are. We couldn't love anyone _more_ than you. And how much we love you isn't going to change if there's a new baby. There's just. There's just going to be more love to go around.”

Charlotte is still crying, though. “The new baby won’t be as complicated, though. It’ll be easier. Easier to—”

“No.” This time it’s Sara who speaks. “No. Don’t say that again. You were never difficult to love. Was the situation difficult? Absolutely. Were things difficult between me and your mom? Yes. They were. You know that. We’ve talked about that. Was the whole situation complicated and kinda messy and terrifying? Yes.” Ava eyes her, wary, like she’s not sure where Sara’s going with this. “But you, Lottie,” Sara says, poking Charlotte. A hiccupy smile flickers for a moment over her face, “_you_ were never difficult to love. Never. Once your mom talked some sense into me on that first day, I was all in. It didn't matter that the situation was strange. I loved you then, and I love you now. That’s _never_ going to change.”

Charlotte hiccups again, the sobs slowing slightly. “So you don’t want the baby because… because I’m not… I’m not enough? I’m not good enough?”

“No,” Ava says, firmly. “We want another baby because we love each other, and we want to do this together. We love you, so, so much, and Sara’s right. That’s never going to change. And we wouldn’t change _anything _about how we got you, because if we did, we wouldn’t be right here. I wouldn’t trade anything for being right here, right now. But… both of us only got one part of the experience. And now we’re here, and we’re settled, and… I think both of us, Sara and I, we really… we want to have another kid. We want to see the whole thing.”

Charlotte’s eyes are wide. Her lip is still wobbling.

“That doesn’t mean we’re going to love the new baby any more than you, sweetheart. It’s just important for both of us, that we do this. Do you understand?”

Charlotte nods, drawing her knees up to her chest. “So the baby isn’t a… a replacement?”

“No, baby. Never. It’s just an addition. We’ve got so much love to give and we just… we want to give more. And I think you do, too,” Ava says, sweeping her hand over Charlotte’s cheek. “You always said you wanted a sibling. And you were so happy at dinner. You weren’t just putting it on, right?”

Shaking her head, Charlotte sighs. “No. I wasn’t. I just… after I went upstairs I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and… I got scared,” she admits, her voice tiny. “I love you guys so much, and we’re so happy, and I don’t want that to change.”

“How much we love you is never going to change. Things in the house _will_ change, if there’s a new baby, but you know that. You’re a smart girl,” Sara says, fondly. “If you know this absolutely won’t affect how much we love you, how much we care about you, do you think you could be brave enough to let things change here?”

Charlotte nods, a tiny nod. “Yeah.” Her voice is equally small.

“Yeah?” Ava asks. “You can be a brave girl?”

Charlotte nods again. “Yeah, I can.” Her voice is slightly stronger that time.

Ava smiles. “Yeah, I knew you could be.” She leans down, kisses Charlotte’s forehead. “You’re going to love having a baby sibling so much, honey. I promise.” She wraps her arms around Charlotte’s small frame, hugging her close. “We love you so much. Always remember that.”

When Ava lets her go, Charlotte bites her lip. “Can I sleep in here with you guys? I’m all ready for bed.”

Ava nods. “Of course, baby. Lay down. It’s late. You must be exhausted.”

Charlotte doesn’t need to be told twice. She pulls the pillow down, settling on it, closing her eyes. Ava reaches over, turns out the light, pulling the covers up further over Charlotte, stroking gently over her arms, soothing her. For five minutes, they’re both silent, watching her, and then, when her breathing has become regular, when it seems like she’s asleep, Ava slips out of the bed. “I’m gonna brush my teeth. We can take turns. I don’t want her to wake back up and be alone,” she whispers. Sara nods.

While Ava’s away though, Charlotte shifts, clinging onto Sara, and when Ava comes back, motions for Sara to take her turn, Sara shakes her head. She’s not risking waking her up. “I’ll just have terrible morning breath,” she says, a whisper of a laugh in her voice.

Ava smiles at them both, fondly, and then slides back under the covers, pressing up close to Sara and Charlotte.

Over the covers, she finds Sara’s hand, careful not to disturb their sleeping child.

“She’ll be okay,” Sara whispers. “She’s tough. She’s just scared. We just have to make sure she knows that this is never going to change how we feel about her.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ava whispers back. “I know. She will be fine. It’s just… it’s just hard seeing her like that.”

“I know, baby. It's hard for me, too. But she'll be okay.”

Ava sighs, nods, and closes her eyes. Sara does the same, drifting off to sleep with her hand still linked with Ava's, both of them keeping Charlotte safe between them.

When Sara wakes up, Charlotte is still asleep. No longer curled into Sara, but instead, on her back, arms clutching at both of them, one hand gripping each of their arms.

She moves her gaze upwards, and Ava is awake, her eyes trained on Charlotte. She notices that Sara is awake, and smiles a weak smile at her.

Sara carefully twists to look at the clock, careful not to pull away from Charlotte. It’s not quite six. Their alarm will go off in fifteen minutes. Sara wishes they could just stay where they are for the whole morning, but Charlotte has school, and they both have work.

When the alarm goes off, Charlotte wakes up, her eyes snapping open.

“Hey, baby,” Ava says, her voice soft. “How did you sleep?”

Charlotte yawns, her eyes fluttering closed again. “Wanna sleep more.”

“I know, baby, but you gotta get up. You got school.”

Sighing, Charlotte opens her eyes, pushing herself up to lean against the headboard, bringing her knees up to her chin, clutching them. She screws up her mouth. “I’m sorry about last night. I know the new baby wouldn’t— wouldn’t change how much you guys love me. I’m just… I’m just scared. I _want_ the baby. I want a sibling. I’m just… yeah. Scared.”

“Oh, honey, you don’t need to apologise,” Sara says. “We’re all scared, a little bit. It’s big. It would be weird if we weren’t. But we’re gonna be here for you. Always. Do you still think you could be okay with this?”

Charlotte nods. “Yeah. Yeah. I want to see the baby. I like babies.”

Sara smiles. “Okay, baby. That’s good.” She swings her legs out of bed, holding her hand out. Charlotte takes it, lets herself be pulled to her feet. “Let’s get you ready for school, okay?”

As they leave the room, she looks back at Ava, and there’s a contented smile on her face as she looks at the two of them. Sara smiles back, and Ava melts a little against the bed, and that, with Charlotte’s hand in hers, is everything.

After a couple more discussions with Charlotte, talking through it until she’s completely reassured and on board, they don’t talk about it much for the next six months. That’s not to say they’re not thinking about it. Sara is thinking about it constantly, and she’s pretty sure that Ava is, too, but they’re not talking about it.

That’s what they’d agreed. That they wouldn’t talk about it until Sara says she’s ready to, so they don’t.

In any case, the next six months are busy. It’s Thanksgiving, Sara’s birthday, and Christmas, and then their first anniversary, spent away at a cabin, Charlotte staying with Zari. They spend the whole weekend wrapped up in each other, thinking of nothing, and it’s perfect. And then it’s Charlotte’s birthday, and she’s _twelve_, and it seems impossibly grown up. She’s still settling into middle school, and she needs them, so it’s not difficult to not talk about the baby, because everything else is so important.

And then, on Charlotte’s birthday, when it’s just the three of them, she blows out her candles, closes her eyes, and when Ava asks if she wished for something, she nods.

Sara pokes her. “Want to tell us?”

Charlotte frowns at her. “Sara,” she says, her tone hilariously patronising. “If I tell you, it won’t come true. And I _need_ this to come true.”

Sara holds up her hands in surrender. “Sorry, baby.”

Ava just laughs, hands Charlotte the knife so she can cut it, watching warily. Sara can tell that it’s hard to get rid of the instinct to protect Charlotte from everything. Hell, it’s hard for Sara to get rid of that instinct, and she’d only known the kid since she was nine. She can’t imagine what it’s like for Ava, for someone who’s gone from doing everything for this child, from protecting her and caring for her, to now having a child who is part way to being grown.

And then she realises that, if all goes well, she’s going to be able to experience that, and she suddenly needs it, so bad she almost can’t breathe, and something switches in her mind, and she’s _ready. _She would never rush her time with Charlotte, would never want her to sleep so she can be alone with Ava, but, for a split second, she wishes it was already past ten, wishes Charlotte was already in bed so she could spill.

And then the moment passes, and she looks at Ava, smiles, squeezes her hand. They both gaze at Charlotte, at how her mouth is screwed up in concentration as she cuts the cake, and Sara is content to wait, to get to witness this, with the knowledge that, later, she’s going to be able to break something to Ava that’s going to fix that wonderful smile on her face.

A while later, they’re settled on the couch, Charlotte carefully unwrapping presents. At each one, there’s a beam on her face which makes Sara fall in love with her even more, if that were even possible.

But, between presents, there’s a flicker of something else on her face. Worry, maybe, or stress. A few times, Sara catches Ava’s eyes over Charlotte’s head, and Ava widens her eyes, obviously noticing it too.

When they’re done, when the wrapping paper has been tidied away, and Charlotte has carefully arranged her presents on the coffee table, Sara speaks up.

“Baby? Are you okay? If there’s something wrong you know you can tell us, right?”

“Yeah, sweetie,” Ava says, her hand closing over Charlotte’s. “Talk to us, honey. Is it something at school? Something here?”

Charlotte purses her lips. “I guess… something here.”

Ava glances again at Sara, her expression even more worry-filled. “Oh, Lottie. You can tell us anything. Promise.”

Sara swallows, then says, “And if it’s something you only want to say to your mom, you don’t have to tell me—”

“No!” Charlotte says. “No. It’s nothing— it’s nothing like that. I just…” she trails off, and Sara and Ava lean closer. “I want to tell you guys my wish.” Internally, Sara lets out a sigh of relief. It’s nothing huge. She sees the tension in Ava’s shoulders dissipate slightly as Ava also relaxes. Charlotte keeps speaking, her voice earnest. “But if I do, then it’s not going to come true,” she finishes, her voice sad.

Sara looks at Ava, briefly, then speaks. “You know what I heard, Lottie? I heard that if you whisper it really, _really_ quietly, then it doesn’t count as saying it.”

“Really?”

Sara nods. “Yeah. Pinky promise.” Charlotte takes the finger, smiling, suddenly much more relaxed. It doesn’t feel like she needed much persuasion, because she’s beckoning them both closer.

“I wished for the new baby,” she whispers, and Sara’s heart melts.

“You did?” Sara asks, her chest swelling with love.

“Mmhmm,” Charlotte says. “You guys haven’t mentioned it for months and I— I really want it, now. I’m not scared anymore. I want to meet the new baby.”

Sara’s smiling, but when she looks at Ava, her expression is conflicted. “That’s lovely, honey, but we’re not really talking about it at the moment. It’s Sara’s choice when it happens, and we don’t want to pressure—”

Charlotte’s smile is fading slightly, and Sara jumps in, urgent. “No. No. Ava. It’s okay.”

Ava looks at her, an unreadable expression on her face. “It is?”

“Yes,” Sara says. “It is.”

It’s more than okay, because now she’s certain. Charlotte wants this, with absolute certainty. Ava wants this. They all want this. Sara’s ready.

Ava doesn’t push it further, just lets Charlotte talk about it for the next fifteen minutes, occasionally glancing back at Sara, as if to check that she’s still okay. When Charlotte has gone up to bed, her expression turns more obviously quizzical. “Sara?” she asks, not even needing to voice the question.

“I’m ready,” Sara says, without hesitation, needing to get straight to the point. “I’m ready to start trying.”

That smile, the one Sara was waiting for, breaks on Ava’s face, and it almost takes Sara’s breath away. It’s wide, unrestrained, completely and utterly blissfully happy.

“You are? This isn’t just because of what Charlotte said? She’d understand if you still wanted to wait. I know she would.”

“No,” Sara says, her fingers finding Ava’s. “I know. I know she would. But it’s not because of what she said. I knew even before then. This just made me even more certain. I want to do this. I want to start the process. I want to have a kid with you, Ava. We’ve settled in enough. I’ve been living here for over a year. I’ve known you two for more than two years. I’m ready. If you’re ready to start, then I am.”

“Yeah,” Ava breathes. “Yeah, I am.”

All of a sudden, her hands are around Sara’s waist, and she’s pulling her closer, pulling her into her lap, kissing her. Sara lets her arms settle around Ava’s neck, giving herself over to the kiss. Ava’s hands roam up and down her back.

The kiss lasts as long as they seem to have decided, unspoken, that they can get away with when they’re not in their room, and then Sara pulls away. Ava’s hands move upwards, wiping hair from both sides of Sara’s face, the expression on her face still saturated in love and contentment.

“I love you so much, Ava,” Sara whispers, leaning her forehead against Ava’s. “I love you so much.”

Ava’s hands have moved down to Sara’s neck, her fingers moving lightly. Sara closes her eyes, breathing slowly, just content to sit there, her weight in Ava’s lap, Ava’s warmth spreading through her.

“I love you too,” Ava murmurs back, and then Sara feels the soft press of Ava’s lips on the edge of hers. “So, so, so much. Endlessly,” she says, dropping teasing kisses between every word. Eventually, it’s too much, and Sara opens her eyes to see Ava staring at her, eyes wide and blue, before pulling her in, kissing her again, properly this time.

“I’m so excited to do this with you, baby,” Sara says, when she pulls back, her fingers stroking over Ava’s cheeks. “I really— I really never thought this was something I would want to do again. You made me realise I could do it, I could want to do it. You did that. I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you.”

Ava smiles. “I’m happiest with you, too, Sara.”

In the soft light of the living room, lit up just by a few lamps, Ava has never looked more beautiful. Her hair is loosely pulled back off her face. Her skin is bare of makeup, something that Sara loves, because so often she’s hidden below the layers she carefully applies for work. It’s not that she doesn’t love Ava like that, just that seeing Ava like this, at her most vulnerable, does something to Sara’s heart.

Sara shifts, so that she’s still in Ava’s lap, but is no longer facing Ava, but, instead, is curled up against her, her head resting on Ava’s chest.

“We’re going to have another kid, baby,” Sara whispers, saying it out loud for the first time in months.

She can sense the smile on Ava’s face without even having to look at it. Her hand comes up to stroke through Sara’s hair, and then Sara feels Ava leaning down, kissing the top of her head.

“Yeah, my love, we are.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello ladies and gays. enjoy chapter two. there's quite a lot of sex/sexy talk, but shouldn't be above an M.

A few mornings later, Sara wakes up before Ava. Ava is lying on her front, her face towards Sara, her eyes closed, peaceful. She looks perfect when she’s asleep.

She looks even more perfect when she’s completely naked, blonde hair spilling out over her back, over the smooth, lightly tanned skin that is only marred by the dark bruises Sara had sucked onto her the night before.

Charlotte was at a sleepover, so they could risk falling asleep naked. They don’t usually, but last night, they could get away with it.

The sheets have ended up halfway down their bodies, so all of Ava’s back is on show, and the picture is so breathtakingly beautiful that Sara can’t help but be more than a little in awe. At Ava, at the fact that Ava is _hers_, the fact that she loves Ava, and Ava loves her back, enough to want to have another child with her.

Before she can stop herself, she’s reaching out a finger, trailing it lightly against Ava’s spine, up towards the nape of her neck. At the sensation, Ava stirs, shivers. “Mmm,” she hums, her eyes still closed. “That feels nice.”

Sara smiles at her, leans down, presses a kiss to the join of Ava’s neck and her shoulders, to the nape of her neck, to the top of her spine. “That also feel good?” she asks, against Ava’s skin.

“Mmm,” Ava says again, still sounding half asleep. “Feels so good. Love your mouth.”

Sara smirks, wiping hair out of Ava’s face, trailing her kisses upwards again, dropping one on the curve of Ava’s ear, her cheekbones, the tip of her nose, before finally making her way to Ava’s mouth. She cups Ava’s cheek, pressing in carefully, feeling Ava wake up more under her lips, sleep being pulled from her body by the feeling of Sara kissing her.

“How long until we have to pick her up?” Ava mumbles into the pillows when Sara pulls back, sounding more awake, but still not happy about it—probably because they’d only fallen asleep a few hours ago.

When Charlotte’s not in the house, they take advantage of that, which means going for longer, being louder, and staying up until the early hours of the morning falling into each other.

“We’ve got a couple of hours, baby,” Sara says, after looking at the clock. “We could go back to sleep, or…” she trails off suggestively, letting her fingers travel back to Ava’s spine, travel further downwards. “Or we could have morning sex. We never get to have morning sex. I read somewhere that it’s supposed to be the best kind of sex.”

Ava rolls onto her back, staring up at Sara. Sara moves her fingers to Ava’s stomach, weaving over it, upwards, towards Ava’s breasts, just teasing the underside, before moving down lower again, towards Ava’s legs, towards the join of them.

“Ava?” Sara asks, pausing her fingers until she gets an answer.

“Yeah. Yes,” Ava says, closing her eyes.

“Okay,” Sara says, laughing lightly. “Yes to which one? Because you just closed your eyes, so am I assuming you want to sleep more, or…”

“No. Second one,” Ava says. “Sex. We should do that.”

Sara laughs again. “Okay, baby. Can I eat you out? I _really_ want to eat you out.”

Ava doesn’t open her eyes, just nods, sighs. Sara smiles, drops one last kiss on her lips before moving downwards, kissing down her body, following the path her fingers had taken seconds before.

At the first touch of her tongue, just the tip, Ava jerks, like she’s just been hit by a bolt of electricity. “Oh,” she breathes. “I forgot how good this feels when you’re still half asleep.”

Sara just smirks against Ava, keeps going, gently, and it’s all Ava seems to need, because she’s reacting like she would be if Sara were putting a lot more into it. Above her, Ava’s hands fist into the pillows, and Sara grabs onto them, guiding them to her hair. Ava’s fingers grip down on the strands, her short nails lightly scratching over Sara’s scalp.

A few minutes later, Ava tenses under Sara’s mouth, and then a succession of noises are falling from her lips as she topples over the edge, her back arching up from the bed, her fingers digging into Sara as every muscle in her body contracts. Once Ava has made it through the aftershocks, Sara withdraws, kissing Ava’s inner thighs. “Good?” she asks, although she feels like she already knows the answer.

Ava nods. “So good. Come up here. I wanna touch you properly, babe. You’re so good at that.”

Sara moves upwards until she can curl into Ava’s arms. Ava presses a kiss to her temple. Sara tilts her head. “You say that like _you’re_ not. Which is just patently not true, because I came like three times in ten minutes when you had your mouth on me last night.”

At those words, Ava groans a little, arousal obvious.

“You make me feel so good, Ava. Every time.”

Ava ducks her head into Sara’s neck, and Sara knows it’s to hide the adorable blush on her cheeks. When she speaks, the words vibrate through Sara’s skin. “Wanna make you feel good _now_,” she mumbles.

“Please do,” Sara whispers, and that’s all Ava needs to shift them, until Sara is below her, staring up.

Ava leans down to kiss her, slowly and carefully and almost lazily, the perfect type of morning kiss, and, as she does, her fingers trace lower, teasing, before finally dipping inside. Just like Ava had, Sara jerks upwards at the touch, wondering how she’s still so hot for this, before dreams she had had float up to the forefront of her memory, and her arousal makes more sense.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Ava says, her voice dripping with awe, like it always is when they’re in this position. “You’re so beautiful. I’m so lucky we found you.”

Her fingers move inside Sara, perfect as always. At some point, Sara closes her eyes, just letting the sensation wash over her. Ava's fingers are the best thing Sara has ever felt, long and soft and gentle. She twists them, and Sara starts, bucking upwards.

“Ava—” she gasps out, choking on her words. She reaches up blindly for Ava's face, tugging her downwards, needing to feel her lips. “Baby, baby, I need—” Ava adds another finger and Sara is stunned into silence, amazed at how there's always another level of pleasure possible with Ava, at how she'd been so sure they were already at three.

“Good?” Ava murmurs, as Sara's hips rock against hers.

“So good—fuck—you're so good at this, baby. No-one’s ever made me feel like this.”

It's not a lie. They've talked about this. Sure, she's had good sex. She's had lots of it. But no-one has ever made her feel quite _this _good. That had been true since their very first time. Only Nyssa had ever come close, but it had been hard, with her, because there was never any real privacy. Everything was rushed, but somehow hesitant at the same, because Sara had been new to everything, and hardly more than six months post having Charlotte.

Now, though… now she's more than used to this, knows exactly what she likes and what it feels like when it's being done right, and there's never any question of being rushed. They always make sure they have ample time. So Ava isn't going quickly, but, instead, is going slowly, carefully, just hard enough that she's not teasing, that it's building Sara up further with each movement, but just soft enough to keep Sara waiting.

She clutches down on Ava’s back, fingertips digging in, and Ava presses in closer, pressing their fronts together, skin on skin.

Her hand is cupping the back of Sara’s head, and her mouth moves down to Sara’s neck, kissing lightly, then harder as she gets further down, tracing her lips down towards her shoulders, and finally sucking down on the join of Sara’s neck and shoulders. Sara actually _whimpers_ at the feeling, and the sensation heightens even more when Ava kisses the already forming bruise. With her eyes still closed, she gets lost in the feeling of everything.

Of Ava's mouth on her skin, her hand in her hand, her fingers still moving in and out, a thumb brushing over Sara’s clit, release getting closer and closer with every second.

Ava moves her head, so that her lips are dusting over Sara’s face, dropping touches all over her skin. It feels good, but Sara just needs Ava to kiss her again, so she moves her hand up from where they’d still been digging into Ava’s back, to the back of her head, guiding her towards her mouth. Ava doesn't take much persuasion.

A second later, they're kissing again, and everything heightens, and nothing exists except for Ava and how she sounds and smells and feels, except them and their bed and this feeling, and then everything peaks and Sara gasps, feeling everything tighten, every part of her tensing, and then it releases, and she falls, Ava's name falling from her lips.

Above her, she can almost _feel_ Ava smiling down at her, but opening her eyes is too much to check. And then Ava moves her head again, until her mouth is against Sara's cheek, and this time, Sara really _can_ feel her smile.

“So perfect, Sara,” Ava whispers. “You look so beautiful, my love.”

Sara smiles a lazy smile, pressing her head further back into the pillows, still unable to talk, to see, to do anything but live in the moment, in how Ava had made her feel. Ava's fingers inside of her twist one last time, and then they're gone. A second later, Ava is lying down again, gathering Sara up in her arms. She presses a kiss to Sara’s cheek. “Good call on the morning sex, babe,” she murmurs.

Sara smiles again, and then finally forces her eyes open, staring right at Ava. “Mmm, yeah, I thought so. But then, sex is always a good idea.”

Ava laughs, the sound soothing, her finger coming up to tap Sara lightly on the nose, her mouth following right after, dropping a kiss there. “Maybe so.”

“Definitely so,” Sara says, closing her eyes again, leaning in closer to Ava's chest. With her fingers, she traces the lines of Ava's torso, weaving her way over all the skin on show.

And then she sighs, and she can feel Ava immediately react to it, on alert.

They've spent enough time together that they can read even the tiniest of sounds from each other.

“Sara?”

“Mmm?”

“What's wrong?” Ava asks, her mouth pressing to the top of Sara's head, fingers raking gently through Sara's hair.

Sara sighs again, looks up. “It's nothing.” Ava raises her eyebrow, but Sara's speaking again before she can be told off for diminishing her feelings. She's had that lecture multiple times from Ava. “It's just— I just wish— I just we could have a kid just from this.”

Ava lets out a breath. “Yeah. I know, babe. But that's not how biology works.”

“Biology sucks,” Sara says, stroking her thumb over Ava's hip. “Like, it's so stupid. I had sex one time with Oliver and that was _it._ Bam. Charlotte. But if we want another kid we gotta go through this whole _process _and I just... it's a lot.”

And then Ava goes quiet. There's silence for a minute. When she finally speaks, her voice is small. “You know, we don't have to go through the… process, if you don't want to. You could just do it… naturally...” She trails off, her voice diminishing into nothing.

“You mean like… finding some guy to screw?” Sara asks, her face twisting.

Ava sucks in air at the words, grimacing. “Well. Yes. That. If you want to put it that way.”

Sara shakes her head. “Ava. No. I don't want to do that. I don't want to be with anyone but you—”

“You wouldn't be _with _them, it would just be for this—” Sara cuts her off with a finger to her lips.

“Ava. Stop. I don't want to do that. You _clearly_ don't want to do that. It's not an option.”

“It's not?” Ava asks, unsure.

“Yes. God, Ava. I _do not want_ to do that. I don't want to be having sex with anyone but you. Even just for this. Who would we even ask? Gary? Ray? Because I refuse to have the giant baby Ray would produce. I don't know how Nora did it.”

Ava smiles a weak smile. “I think Nora might have something to say about that.”

“Well, then,” Sara says, toying with Ava’s hair, tugging at the strands playfully. “It would have to be Gary. Or someone we didn’t know. And the only benefit of doing it the… natural way that can make up for having to fuck someone other than your partner is having it be someone you know. So if it’s not gonna be someone we know, we might as well just go through the process. So that’s what we’re going to do. The process.”

“So like… a donor and a clinic someone… someone getting you pregnant?”

“Yeah, I think that's usually how it works, baby.”

Ava sighs. “It all seems so… impersonal.”

Sara finds Ava's hands, linking their fingers together, circling her thumb in Ava's palm. “It's less impersonal than me going off and having sex with some random dude. I'm pretty sure you can be there. It's gonna be fine. And then, at the end of it all, we have a kid. That's the least impersonal it can be.”

Ava sighs again. “Yeah. No. You're right.”

“That's what we're gonna do?” Sara asks.

Ava nods. “Yeah. Yeah. That's what we’ll do.”

Sara smiles, wipes some hair out of Ava's face. “We're gonna find a donor that is stupidly tall and blond and tan we're going to make an Ava and Sara baby,” Sara says, her voice soft, knowing her expression is equally so.

Ava lets out a choked off laugh. “You're going to find the male version of me?”

“Mmhmm,” Sara says, burying her face in Ava’s neck, letting her lips fall open so she can lick a stripe up it. Underneath her ministrations, Ava shivers. “Gonna find man Ava, and we’re gonna end up with two kids that look like both of us.”

Ava pulls back, a frown on her face. “But Charlotte wasn't—”

“Well, yeah. But Oliver kinda fits the specifications. Tall. Blonde. Tan.”

Ava grimaces. “Are you saying that the male version of me is _Oliver Queen_?”

Sara laughs, pulling her close, kissing the disgust away. “No. You're a million times better than him. You just… might end up looking like him if someone turned you into a man. But hotter,” she says. “Way hotter.”

Ava blushes, biting her lip, and it's times like that that Sara feels her heart swell, the love she feels growing larger, as if that were even possible, as if she doesn't already love Ava more than she's ever loved any partner ever.

“You're so beautiful, Ava,” Sara says, her voice earnest. “And we’re going to make a child as beautiful as you, because it's going to be _ours_, okay. We’re gonna be a family of four, and the _process_ will all be worth it. I wasn't reluctant about that before. I just wished it were different. That doesn't mean I'm not totally up for it. I've been reading up on it. I know all about it all. I've got the _process_ nailed.”

“Okay,” Ava says, tapping her fingers lightly against Sara’s arm. “That's what we're going to do. But, please, never say the words ‘the process’ again, because I think it's starting to lose meaning.”

Sara smiles, leans in closer. “Whatever you say, baby,” she says, before pressing their lips together. “Whatever you say.”

Sara comes home a couple of weeks later, creeping around the house because she’d been out on a job late, and Charlotte should probably already be asleep. When she makes her way upstairs, the door to their room is open. Ava is sat on their bed, her robe wrapped around her, staring down at her laptop. On her face are her glasses.

She doesn’t notice Sara as she walks up, so engrossed in whatever’s on her laptop. Sara leans in the door, crossing her arms. “That’s not fair.”

Ava’s head whips around. Her face, when she sees Sara, lights up, and then falls back into a frown, clearly confused. “What’s not fair?”

Sara pushes herself out of the doorway, crossing the room towards their bed. Ava looks up at her, her mouth slightly open. Sara gets a finger under her chin, tilting it further upwards, before tapping the side of the glasses with her other hand. “These. You look so hot. I’m just here, minding my own business, and you have to look like _that._”

“Oh,” Ava says, laughing. “You’ve seen me in these before.”

“Yes,” Sara says, leaning down. “But I’ve been sitting in my car for the past seven hours and the dude who was supposed to turn up didn’t, and so I am incredibly frustrated right now, both job wise _and _sexually. Which means your glasses are currently like Sara _kryptonite_.”

Ava laughs again, rolling her eyes, before teaching up, tugging at Sara’s neckline to bring her closer, pressing their lips together. Sara leans down further, falling down onto the bed, her hands coming up to Ava’s face. It’s late, Ava has an early morning, and usually that means no sex, but maybe—

And then Ava pulls away, her nose crinkling. Sara pouts. “No sex?” Ava presses her lips together, and for a second Sara can’t work out what the expression is, and then she realises she’s trying not to laugh. “What?” Sara asks, poking her. “What is it?”

“Where were you staking out?” Ava asks.

“I don’t know. Some back alley.”

“Were there dumpsters?”

“I don’t know, maybe. Why—” and then she cuts off, gasping, shoving Ava lightly on the shoulder, tipping her backwards. Ava hits the sheets, laughing. “Ava _Sharpe. _Are you saying I _smell?”_

Ava looks up at her, her eyes wide. “I mean. Just a little bit, babe.”

“You’re saying I _smell_?” Sara repeats, clambering on top of her, bracketing her hips, leaning down to press a kiss to her neck, her jaw, her ear, her hands on Ava’s waist, pinning her down. “You’re saying the person you are going to have a _child_ with _smells_?”

Ava’s still laughing as she pushes Sara off of her, her head tipped back, her eyes bright. “Yes. You do. Go shower. Or you’re not sleeping here.”

Sara rolls off the bed, falling lightly to her feet. She crosses her arms, staring down at Ava. “Really? You’d kick me out?”

Ava manages to keep the stern look on her face for about five seconds before caving, her face almost guilty, almost _pained,_ as if the idea of kicking Sara out of their bed is physically hurting her. “Okay, no,” she says, biting at her lip. “I wouldn’t, but—”

Sara presses a finger to Ava’s lips. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

Ava’s eyes flick down briefly to where Sara has begun to absentmindedly tracing the edge of her mouth with her finger, and then back up, to Sara’s eyes. “Does that mean you’ll shower?”

Sara nods, stepping further backwards. “Doesn’t mean I’m not going to make you regret your choice, though.”

Ava raises an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” Sara says, reaching down to her shirt’s hem, tugging it slowly upwards, “I’m giving my ungrateful girlfriend a strip tease.”

“Okay, _that’s _not fair,” Ava says, her eyes slipping lower, to Sara’s stomach, and upwards, as her breasts are revealed.

Sara shrugs. “Karma.”

Ava’s mouth is slightly open, her eyes darkening—and then Sara throws her shirt at her, her perfect aim landing it right in Ava’s lap, and the arousal immediately leaves Ava’s eyes, and she’s laughing again, so hard it looks like she’s about to start crying. “Babe. This smells _so _bad. Were you _rolling _in the garbage?”

Sara frowns, shimmying out of her pants. “You’re the worst,” she grumbles, throwing them at Ava’s head instead of her lap.

“I don’t think we can even salvage these. I think we should just burn them.”

“You gave me those jeans as an anniversary present,” Sara points out.

Ava shrugs. “Still.”

Sara balls up her socks, throwing them at Ava. This time, she’s expecting them, and reaches up, catching them. She smirks at Sara. “You’re so easy to rile up, babe.”

Sara crosses her arms again, trying to look annoyed.

“You’re cute,” Ava says. Sara unhooks her bra, throwing that at Ava as well.

“Shut up,” Sara says. “I’m not cute. _You’re _cute.”

“You’re _so _cute when you’re trying to be annoyed,” Ava says, still laughing. Her happiness is infectious, and Sara can’t stop herself from smiling a little. Ava’s smile grows wider as she sees the corners of Sara’s lips quirk up. “Does that smile mean I’m forgiven?”

Sara pulls her panties away from her body, stepping out of them, and then closer to Ava again. She strokes a finger down Ava’s arm. “Mmm. Maybe.”

Ava looks at the underwear in Sara’s hand. “Do I get those as well? It feels like I should have the full set. You know, so I can burn them all,” she says, her smile turning cheeky again. “Please?”

Sara just rolls her eyes.“Fine,” she says, dropping them into Ava’s hand. “You know, I was going to make you shut up before I gave them to you, but since you asked so nicely.” At that, she walks away. As she walks towards the bathroom, she can feel Ava’s eyes on her retreating figure.

“How were you going to make me shut up, babe?” Ava asks, her tone slightly challenging.

Sara doesn’t even know what she’s going to say until she looks over her shoulder, and glances at the pile of clothes in Ava’s lap. “Well, I was thinking you wouldn’t be able to say much with my underwear in your mouth?”

She doesn’t need to say anything more, because Ava’s mouth has fallen open, speechless. A second later, though, she regains her composure, gasps, “Sara!” and Sara only just closes the door behind her quickly enough to miss the jeans that were just thrown back at her head.

In the shower, she makes more of an effort than usual to douse herself in all of the various scented hair and body products Ava has littered the bathroom with, hoping that that, and the scalding hot water pouring on her will erase the smell from her skin. Despite the teasing, she still wants to actually be clean.

Half an hour later, she steps out of the bathroom, her hair damp around her shoulders, changed into her pyjamas. Ava is back on her laptop, concentrating again. The glasses are still on her face. Sara’s clothes have been placed in their laundry basket.

Sara walks across the room, pulls the hair dryer out from the dresser, and plugs it in next to their bed, falling down onto it. As she blow-dries her hair, Ava reaches over absent-mindedly, joining their hands together, stroking her thumb over Sara’s hand. She looks completely put together, calm, like she hadn’t just short circuited at Sara’s words half an hour ago.

When Sara’s done, she places the hairdryer on the floor, not wanting to get up again. Ava closes the laptop, puts her arm around Sara, drawing her closer. And then she turns to her, and says, matter of fact. “Do you really want to put your underwear in my mouth?” Sara chokes on air, her turn to be shocked, having pretty much assumed that Ava was just ignoring that. “Or was that just to shock me?”

Sara manages to make her brain work, and she gets out the words, “Second one.” She pauses, and then says, “Mostly,” her voice quiet.

“Mmm,” Ava hums, her expression level. “Interesting.”

She’s so calm about this, and it’s make Sara be _not _calm, a blush rising on her face despite the fact that she was the one who’d brought it up in the first place. Ava’s arm is still around her waist, and Sara feels both held tight and like she’s floating.

“Ava,” she says, her voice weak. “You’re killing me. How are you so _chill_ about this?”

Ava turns to Sara, kisses her on the nose. “Because it’s making you _not _chill, and I like it when you’re a little shaken up.”

Sara groans, burying her face in Ava’s neck. “You’re a menace.”

Ava presses her mouth to the top of Sara’s head. “You started it, babe.”

Sara groans again. “You didn’t have to carry it on! We could’ve just both forgotten about this and never talked about it again.”

With one hand, Ava moves her laptop to the bedside table, flicks off the light, pulling Sara down against the pillows. “I like teasing you,” Ava says, her voice fond. Sara sighs, not sure how something that was supposed to be a joke to shock Ava has backfired quite so spectacularly on her. And then she whispers, “Maybe on your birthday.”

Sara swallows. “Is that a tease?”

“No,” Ava says, and then doesn’t say anything more, and Sara takes that as her cue to (try to) go to sleep.

If Sara was worried that she’d made things weird, she didn’t need to, because, when they wake up the next morning, Ava acts no different to normal. She presses a kiss to Sara’s temple, and they just lay there for a few minutes, scrolling through their phones, comfortable just being together. Ava’s arm is around Sara, and Sara is curled up into her neck.

When Ava eventually gets out of bed, Sara grumbles, tugging her back down. “Don’t go,” she whispers. “Stay here. Let me kiss you again.”

Ava does, lets herself be kissed for a second, and then pulls away again, tapping Sara’s nose. “We both gotta work, babe.”

“I’m just working from home. It’s not _real _work.”

“Well,” Ava says, as she walks towards the shower, pulling her shirt over her head. “Mine _is_ real work. So I need to shower.” As she reaches the door, she turns back, in a way reminiscent of last night. “But if you want, you can join me,” she says, raising an eyebrow at Sara as she bends down to pull her pyjama pants down her legs.

Sara doesn’t need to be told twice.

Underneath the water, Ava always looks perfect. Wet hair plastered to her skin, skin that is red from the heat. Eyelashes sticking together. Every inch of skin on show. She looks perfect. Sara isn’t sure how she got _here_, doesn’t know what she did to deserve it, but she’s determined to make the most of it, so she steps forward, into Ava’s space, pressing her back against the wall. Ava’s eyes flutter closed as Sara’s fingers stroke over her skin, her thumbs rubbing soothing circles as they press flush against each other.

It’s morning, and they don’t have much time, so they don’t even really _do_ anything, other than kiss a little, the water running down their faces, into their mouths, but it’s more than enough. Sara doesn’t need to have sex, not when they’re pressed up against each other, no space between them, their mouths joined.

Eventually, though, Ava pulls away. “We should actually… you know… get clean, darling,” she whispers, her mouth on Sara’s skin somehow hotter than the water.

Sara’s shower the previous night means she’s still pretty clean, so she instead spends the entire time focused on Ava, rubbing shampoo into her hair, massaging body wash into her muscles, leaning down every so often to press kisses to her skin. Ava makes little noises as Sara’s fingertips brush against her scalp, her skin.

Sighs and giggles and little gasping breaths.

As Sara eases conditioner through Ava’s hair, face to face so that she can be sure she’s not pulling too hard, she tries to memorise every single sound. It’s not even that they’re sexual, because they’re not, not really. It’s just that it makes it so obvious that Ava feels safe with her, and that spreads warmth through Sara’s whole body. All the while, Ava’s hands rest on her waist, firm and reassuring.

When, eventually, they turn the water off, they dry off side by side. Ava blow dries her hair while Sara watches, knowing the expression on her face has to be more than fond.

Ava changes into a work outfit, every so often glancing back at Sara, smiling at her. Each time she does that, something in Sara’s heart swells, swells so much that at one point it gets too hard to keep it inside, and she lets out an audible sigh.

At that, Ava spins back around, concern immediately on her face. “Sara? You okay?” she asks, crossing the room to collapse back next to Sara. Her thumb strokes across Sara’s wrist. “Babe?”

Her expression is so caring, so loving, and Sara should be used to this by now. They’re going to have another _kid. _They live together. She should be used to this sort of affection.

And yet she isn’t.

“No. No. Ava. I’m fine. Sorry. I’m fine. I just— I’m still not used to _this_.” She gestures in between them. “Being in love. Being loved back. I’m not used to it. It’s been over a year and I’m still not used to it. I convinced myself for so long that I’d never have anything, and now it’s hardwired in.”’

“That’s okay, Sara. You’ll get used to it. I’m gonna make sure you get used to it. But it’s okay if you’re not, not yet.” Ava smiles a weak smile, and then her hands are on Sara’s cheeks, pulling her close enough to drop a kiss on her forehead. “You’ve got the rest of our _lives _to get used to it, babe,” she murmurs.

And just those words show that even if Sara isn’t quite used to it yet, she’s come a long way.

Those words would’ve terrified her. The idea of tying herself down to someone for potentially a lifetime. The idea of someone expecting that from her. The idea of inflicting herself on someone for the rest of her life.

Now, though…

They don’t terrify her. They scare her, a little, but it would be weird if they didn’t. They’re big things. But Ava makes her feel safe. Makes her feel like she could get through anything. So, even though those thoughts are scary, they don’t paralyse her like they might once have.

Sara nods. “Yeah. Yeah. You’re right. I’ll get used to it.”

Ava smiles at her, tucking some hair behind Sara’s ear. “I’m always right.” She drops one more kiss on Sara’s nose, then stands up again. “I gotta go get Charlotte up, babe.”

Sara nods, watches Ava go. She wanders out to the hallway, listening to Ava waking Charlotte up. She always likes to just… wait to go downstairs until she can hear Charlotte up, until she can hear her talking, just in case.

It’s so unlikely anything bad would happen, but Sara’s also still not used to having a child, to having someone to worry about in a way that pierces her heart and sometimes wakes her up in the middle of the night because it’s so strong. So, for now, she humors the side of her that needs to check at all times that Charlotte’s okay.

When she hears Charlotte laugh, she smiles, makes her way downstairs, wandering around the kitchen, getting breakfast ready. She turns the coffee machine on, pulls cereal out from the cupboard, chops up some fruit. She puts toast in the toaster, and it pops up the second Ava walks through the doorway, her hair and makeup now fully done.

She grabs the toast, moving in a rush, setting it down on the island and covering it quickly in peanut butter, before starting to devour it.

When she’s finished it, Sara looks at her, reaching up to the corner of her mouth, wiping carefully with her thumb. “Crumbs,” she explains. “You’re in a rush. You gotta get in early?” As she speaks, she moves over to the toaster, putting two new slices into it. The coffee machine beeps, and she hands the cup to Ava.

Ava nods, sighs, accepts it gratefully. “Yeah. They texted me while I was doing my hair. I gotta leave in like ten minutes.” She sighs again, looks upwards. “I hope she’s ready soon. I hate it when we don’t have breakfast together as a family.”

At that, at that _word_, another rush of fondness surges through Sara’s body, and she presses close, raising up on her toes to drop a kiss on Ava’s cheek. “God,” she whispers. “Thank you. I love you so much.”

Ava raises an eyebrow. “Thank you for what?” she asks. “What did I do?”

“For giving me a family, Aves. For giving me Charlotte.”

“Strictly, I think you gave _me_ Charlotte,” Ava says.

Sara rolls her eyes. The toast pops up again, and she grabs it, before returning to Ava’s side, cutting it up into triangles, and covering it with honey, just how Charlotte likes it.

When she’s done, she looks back up at Ava, her eyes wide. “You know what I mean. You gave me a family, Ava,” she repeats. “I’m always going to be grateful for that. You’re giving me the chance to have _another_ kid, with someone who I love. I don’t know— I don’t know how I can ever thank you enough.”

Ava smiles, and then her hand is snaking around Sara, pulling her even closer against Ava’s side. She rests her hand in the curve of Sara’s waist, moving her fingers lightly. She turns to Sara again. “You don’t have to thank me, my love. Just having you is more than I could’ve ever asked for,” she murmurs. “I love you. I want to have another kid with you. I’m not… We’re not… we’re not doing this for one of us. It’s for both of us. So you don’t need to thank me,” she finishes, kissing Sara on the temple again.

Sara just nods, leans into Ava while she drinks the coffee.

Five minutes later, Charlotte appears, sliding into a seat opposite them. “Hey, kid,” Sara says, pushing the toast across the island. “How’d you sleep?”

Charlotte shrugs, digging into the toast. “Okay,” she says, and doesn’t say anything else for a moment, and then looks up, thinks for a second, and launches into a speech about her dreams.

While she’s talking, Ava finishes her drink, and rounds the island to kiss her goodbye. “I’ll see you tonight, yeah, baby?” she says, her hand stroking over Charlotte’s hair.

Charlotte nods, wrapping her arms around Ava, smiling.

Ava moves to leave, and then hesitates, grabbing Sara’s wrist, pulling her out into the hallway. “I’m just stealing Sara for a second, okay, Lottie?” Once she’s closed the door, she bites her lip, then says, “I’ve been working on something for… a while. I’m gonna email it over to you today. You don’t have to do anything with it, not yet, if you don’t want, but, uhh… yeah. I’m gonna send it over.”

“_Something_?” Sara asks, raising an eyebrow. “Is this a sex thing? Is that why we’re out here?”

The slightest blush rises on Ava’s cheeks. “No. Not a… sex thing.” She pauses, then lowers her voice even further and says, “It’s a… baby thing.”

“Oh,” Sara says, not having expected _that_. Sure, they’d decided to start the _proces_s, but Ava hadn’t mentioned it in a while. “Wow. Yes. Okay. You should… fuck, baby, you should definitely send me that.” A smile breaks on her face, and she uses the grip Ava still has on her wrist to bring her closer, to press up on her toes and kiss her.

All of a sudden, all she wants to do is pull Ava back into bed, and maybe she needs to figure out if the thought of having another kid with Ava is literally turning her on, but she ignores that, pulling herself away from Ava, wiping the tiny bit of lipstick that has smudged on Ava’s bottom lip, and then tucking some hair back into place.

“You should definitely send me that. Whatever it is,” she whispers, dropping one last kiss on Ava’s jaw, before pushing her towards the front door.

Back in the kitchen, Charlotte is finishing her breakfast. Sara looks at her phone. “We need to head off in half an hour, okay, kid?”

Charlotte nods, runs back upstairs, leaving Sara finally alone to make some coffee, to drink it. After she’s done, she goes back upstairs, changes into some of the nice clothes Ava has bought her over the past nine months, the clothes she likes to wear if she’s dropping Charlotte off at school. Usually, Charlotte goes on her own, but, today, there’s some paperwork or something for a trip that she needs to sign, so they’re walking together.

She knows she hadn’t made the best first impression on the parents and their kids Charlotte’s age, so, now, when she goes, she tries to wear clothes without rips in them, tries to make _small talk_ with the other parents, and it seems to be working. They’ve accepted her presence in Charlotte’s life. Her name is listed with the school as one of the emergency contacts, and she’d given over her phone number to the head of the PTA, and so occasionally gets calls asking her to _bake_ and _chaperone_—and she does it.

She does it because she loves Charlotte, and because she loves Ava, and they both her want her to be doing these things, and that means she can’t even bring herself to be annoyed about doing them, no matter how much the Sara of two years ago would’ve scoffed at her.

She’s applying a dusting of makeup to her face when Charlotte runs in, hairbrush in hand. “French braid?” she asks.

It’s become almost their _thing_, ever since that first morning. If Sara’s around, she’s the one Charlotte asks to do them. Ava says it’s because Charlotte thinks Sara does them better, but, so far, Charlotte hasn’t actually admitted that. She pats the bed, and Charlotte sits down on the end of it. Sara sits behind her, dividing up her hair, brushing it out, weaving the braids with nimble fingers.

And then, all of a sudden, she remembers a conversation they had on that first day. The promise she’d made to Charlotte, that one day she’d tell her about her birth dad, about Oliver. She hadn’t thought about him in months. When they’d first gotten together, she and Ava had talked about him briefly, had decided that it wasn’t the right time, not yet.

But now, it’s nine months on, and they’re having a kid. Charlotte deserves to know, before the baby comes and everything is chaotic.

As she braids, Sara bites her lip, then says, “Lottie?”

“Mmm?” Charlotte hums.

“Do you remember when I promised that one day I’d tell you about your dad?”

For a second, for ten seconds, Charlotte doesn’t say anything. When she does, her voice is small. “Um. Yeah?”

“Do you still want that?”

“Right now?” Charlotte asks, and Sara can hear worry in her voice, her voice going up at the end of the sentence.

Sara ties off the braids, turning Charlotte around to face her. “No, honey, not right now. I wouldn’t just drop that on you. I’d need to talk to your mom first, but… if you still want to hear about him, I think… I think you’re old enough to hear it. It’s been over two years since you asked. So… if you still want me to talk about him, I could? But only if you want that,” she says, knowing she’s repeating herself, but wanting to make sure Charlotte knows that this is her choice.

Charlotte worries at her lip, twisting the ends of her braids between her fingers. “I… guess? I mean… I wouldn’t have to _meet_ him or anything, would I?” she asks, her voice almost a whisper.

“No. No, baby, no,” Sara says, pulling her close, wrapping her arms around Charlotte. “He doesn’t— he doesn’t know about you, and the only person who would ever be able to make the decision to let him know would be you. If you don’t ever want to, you don’t have to. But if, when you’re a bit older, you want to contact him… we won’t stop stop you.”

That, at least, they’d discussed, and Ava had been adamant that it would be Charlotte’s choice.

Against Sara’s chest, Charlotte shakes her head. “I don’t want to meet him. He’s not— he’s not my parent. Not like Mom. Not like you.”

Sara’s not going to point out that, until Charlotte found her, the only difference between Sara and Oliver was that she’d carried Charlotte for nine months, that they’d both spent almost exactly the same amount of time with Charlotte out of the womb - less than an hour. Sara had had twenty minutes. Oliver had had nothing.

But, in fairness, she’d already felt so much love when she’d been carrying her. Love that she’d repressed once she’d lost her, that she’d convinced herself she didn’t even have the capability to feel, love that had sprung back like it had never been gone, the second Charlotte burst into her life.

So maybe they are more different than she thinks.

“I don’t want to meet him,” Charlotte repeats, sounding noticeably worried, her pitch going up again at the end of the sentence.

Sara hugs her closer, stroking her hand across the braids on Charlotte’s head, before pressing a kiss down on the top of her head. “You don’t have to, baby. We’re never going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do, you understand me?” she asks, pushing Charlotte away slightly so she can look her in the eye. “Never. All this would be would be me telling you about him. Would you want that? If your mom agrees?”

Charlotte thinks for a second, her hands twisting in her lap, and then nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess.”

“Okay, honey. You can change your mind at any time, promise. This is completely up to you.”

Charlotte nods again, looking more and more relaxed with Sara’s reassurances. She looks up at Sara, and there’s a smile on her face. She holds out her hand, pulling Sara off the bed. “Come on, Sara. I’m gonna be late,” she says, switching subjects in the way only children are able to do.

“You’re okay, right?” Sara asks, as she follows Charlotte downstairs.

“Yeah,” Charlotte says. “I’m glad you brought it up again.”

“Okay,” Sara says. “Good. Let’s get you to school, then.”

Later, after she gets back from dropping Charlotte off, Sara’s at her desk when she gets Ava’s email. She opens it, and it’s a link, and login information.

_I made us a shortlist over the past couple of weeks. Obviously, if you don’t like any of them, we can start again. But I just thought I’d get the ball rolling. I filtered out the ones who didn’t have pictures, and then worked through the rest and this is the result. I hope this isn’t too much. If it is, you don’t have to do anything yet. Okay. Bye. Love you._

When she follows the link, she realises pretty quickly what it is.

A sperm bank, with an account already made up. The shortlist is… Sara scrolls down… almost three hundred people, by the looks of it. Ava had been thorough. But, then, Ava is never anything other than thorough. Sara wouldn’t have expected anything less.

But she can feel the nervousness radiating out from Ava’s email, so she pulls out her phone, typing up a text.

_Well, I was planning_  
_on working today, but I _  
_think I’m going to spend_  
_the whole day looking_  
_through your ‘short’ _  
_list, instead._

Ava replies almost immediately.

_It’s too long? Sorry. _  
_You don’t have to look _  
_at it._

  
_Don’t be silly. Obviously _  
_I’m gonna look at it. _  
_Can’t wait to see you_  
_ tonight and talk about_  
_ it. Love you so much._

  
_Sure?_

  
_I’m always sure. Love _  
_you. Let’s make a baby._

  
_Okay. See you later. _  
_Love you too <3_

Sara smiles down at her phone. Ava never uses emojis, only ever typed out emoticons, and Sara used to think it was strange, but now she just finds endearing. Putting the phone on the desk face down, she turns back to the computer, and clicks on the first option.

The day disappears in a flurry of names and faces and statistics. As she scrolls, she makes a list of the ones she likes. At some point, she gets some food, but she’s too engrossed to even notice when Charlotte gets home, not hearing the door, and only realising when she hears Charlotte calling.

“Sara?”

“Yeah? I’m up here, kid.”

Her head pokes around the door. “I’m back,” she says.

“I can see that,” Sara says. “You okay?”

Charlotte nods, wanders across the room, before jumping up and perching on Sara’s desk, swinging her legs. She peers at the screen. “What’s that? Is that the donation thing?”

“Yeah. Your mom tell you about that?”

Charlotte nods again. “She called me after I got out of school. Said she’d texted you to say she was gonna miss dinner, but you hadn’t responded, and it was probably because you were distracted by this.”

Sara picks her phone up, sees the texts on her screen. “Oops.”

“It’s okay. She said she kinda expected you’d miss them. But she wanted me to tell you that it’s your responsibility to feed me and make sure I don’t die of malnutrition.”

Sara rolls her eyes, pushing herself up out of the chair. “That’s her way of saying she wants me include something green, isn’t it?”

“Probably.”

“Let’s see what’s in the fridge.”

When they get downstairs, the fridge is, obviously, full of everything. Sara figures something out to cook, but it’s hardly four. “You cool doing some stuff alone for a bit, baby? I wanna get all the way through Ava’s list before she’s back. I’ll cook a little later, yeah?”

Charlotte nods, goes into the sitting room, settles in on the couch, turning on the TV. She probably has homework, but it’s not the end of the world if she doesn’t do it just yet. It’s Friday, so she can do things over the weekend.

She spends a couple more hours on the list, slowly working her way through it, determined to spend actual time on each one, since she’s sure Ava had, and it’s not like this decision is one that could be taken lightly. In fact, it’s the weightiest decision she’s ever made. So she’s taking her time.

When it starts to get dark outside, she makes her way downstairs, starts to prepare dinner. Halfway through, Charlotte appears, helps her with the rest. She turns on music, draws Sara out of the slightly pensive mood that looking through the donors has put her in, dancing around the kitchen.

“Did Ava say if she needed a serving?” Sara asks, as they’re heaping pasta into a pan.

“She’s eating at the office. Late night meeting over dinner.”

Sara nods, and they eat just the two of them, Charlotte running through her day as she twirls spaghetti on her fork.

Later, when Charlotte’s disappeared into her room, Sara moves from her office to their bedroom. She gets ready for bed, before opening the webpage on her laptop, scrolling down to where she’d gotten before dinner. She’s on the last few when she hears Ava come in.

By the time Ava appears in their doorway, Sara’s done. She turns to look at Ava. Hair is falling out of her bun. Her makeup is faded. She looks perfect.

“Wow,” Sara breathes.

Ava looks down at herself, a look of confusion on her face. She closes the door behind her, pulling the clothes off of her body, shrugging into pyjamas. “What?”

“You look so pretty.”

At that, Ava scoffs. “I look exhausted.”

“You look pretty,” Sara insists. “Come here.”

Ava rolls her eyes, but does. Sara tugs her down for a kiss. “You always look pretty.”

Against her mouth, she feels Ava smiling. “If you say so,” she says, as she pulls away, disappearing into the bathroom. A second later, her toothbrush turns on.

“I do say so,” Sara calls through.

When Ava reappears a few minutes later, her hair is out of it’s bun, slung over her shoulder. Her face is clean of makeup, her skin a little pink from the facewash she uses. She points at the laptop. “You still looking at the donors?”

“Just finished. You wanna look at the ones I liked?”

A smile breaks on Ava’s face, lighting up the whole room. “Yeah. Yeah. Definitely.”

She sits down on the bed next to Sara, and then she frowns. “Something wrong?” Sara asks.

“No,” Ava says, “just…” As she speaks, she shifts, sliding behind Sara, settling against the headboard. She stretches her legs out either side of Sara’s, wraps her arm around Sara’s waist. She rests her head on Sara’s shoulder, and hums in a satisfied way. “Mmm. Yeah. That’s better. I like this angle more.”

Sara draws the laptop closer to her, settling it in her lap.

“I narrowed it down a bit. That was what you wanted, right?”

“Yeah,” Ava says. Sara opens her list of front runners, and then she feels Ava’s arms tighten slightly. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“You really narrowed them down, huh?”

There are only about twenty names on the list, and for a moment Sara is worried. “Shit. Is that— did I narrow that down _too_ much? I can— I can go through them again and add some more back in—”

“No,” Ava says, pressing her mouth to Sara’s neck. “No. Sorry, babe. That’s not a bad thing. I wouldn’t want you to choose anyone you were less than 100% sure on. You being selective is good. If we don’t.. if we don’t agree on anyone here, then we try a different place.”

Sara relaxes under Ava’s grip. “Yeah?”

Ava moves her mouth up further, her lips brushing against Sara’s jaw. Her hands slide under Sara’s shirt, not sexual, just reassuring. “Yeah. And,” she continues, her voice lowering, “if it counts for anything, you, uh, you have one of my favourites on your shortlist.”

Sara twists, looking at Ava. “Really? Who?”

“I’m not gonna tell you that, not yet. I want you to talk through why you chose these guys and not all the others. There were definitely some ones that looked a lot like me that aren’t on here. How did you narrow them down?”

Sara shrugs, pulling up Ava’s list, scrolling through it. “I guess… in their personality descriptions, they weren’t enough like you. I know that… whoever it’s going to be is never going to be _you_, but I want to get as close as possible. Some of these guys just… weren’t like you.”

Ava settles her chin back on Sara’s shoulders. “In what ways?”

“Ummm,” Sara says, looking at the screen. “Well this one talked way too much about being laidback. Which, like, first of all, I love you, but that’s not you. Second of all, I feel like that’s code for drugs.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Sara can see Ava’s nose wrinkle. “Everyone on here is supposed to be clean.”

“Still. I didn’t like him.”

“What about him?” Ava asks, pointing at another guy on the screen. “I thought he looked like quite a good fit.”

“I mean… sure. He _looks_ like you. But he’s not… he’s not very similar in any other way. His profile is all about like… sport and business and all the exciting things he does and he just…” she grimaces. “He seems a bit too cool, baby.”

“You don’t think I’m cool?” Ava asks, slightly indignant.

Sara turns her head, kisses Ava on the cheek. She keeps her mouth there as she speaks, whispering into Ava’s skin. “_I_ think you’re extremely cool. I just don’t think your cool matches up with his. He’s not you. He’s not right.”

Ava nods. “If you don’t think he’s right, he’s not right. You’ve got the final veto here, Sara. Always.”

“I know,” Sara says, leaning into Ava’s head, her hand coming up to cup it. “I know. Do you wanna look at my list now?”

Ava nods again. “Yeah. Yeah.”

For a while, they just scroll, Sara chattering about why she’s chosen them, Ava making occasional comments. By the time they’ve gone through all of them, Sara has melted even further into Ava’s arms, Ava pressing kisses into her skin.

“So,” Sara says, twisting slightly to look at Ava properly. “You said you had a favourite?” Ava nods. “Is it still the same?”

“Yeah.” Ava bites her lip. “It’s kinda gotten… stronger, actually. When you were talking about him… I don’t know. You seemed to really like him. And the more I looked at him and his profile he just seemed… right, you know? I like him. He seems right. For our kid. He just… I can kinda see myself in him.”

She’s smiling, the expression spreading throughout her whole face. She looks almost beatific, content, and, immediately, Sara knows that even if they don’t share a favourite, just the look on her face might change Sara’s mind.

“Okay,” Sara says, zooming out the page so that they’re all visible. “Let’s point at our favourite on three.”

She counts down, and, when it finishes, their fingers land, perfectly, on the exact same guy.

The chance they both liked the same was small, but it’s not surprising that it turned out that way, not really. They’re in tune in a way Sara has never been with anyone else. They know each other so well, know their intimate wishes and fears and feelings.

So it doesn’t surprise Sara, but it seems to surprise Ava, and she lets out a shocked laugh. “Really?” she whispers. “You didn’t just… look at where my finger was going? Because you don’t have to humour me, darling. I want this to be your choice, I don’t want me forcing you into anything, I don’t want—”

Sara cuts her off by twisting even further, grabbing Ava’s face in her hands, kissing her. “I’m not humouring you. He’s been my favourite since I first saw him. I wouldn’t lie to you. Not ever, but _especially _not about this, baby. He’s my favourite.”

“He is?” Ava says, her eyes wide. Her thumb is stroking lines along Sara’s hip, just above the waistband of her sweatpants, the fond gesture sending shivers across her skin.

“Yep,” Sara says. “I’m all about ‘Adam R’, now. In fact,” she says, a smirk on her face, “I’m thinking of leaving you for him. He’s got like five inches of height on you so, can you really blame me? Do you think the sperm bank would give me his number?”

Ava hits her on the arm. “Shut up,” she says, rolling her eyes. “You’re terrible.”

“Make me,” Sara says, the smirk still on her face, and Ava does, pushing Sara’s hair back from her face and kissing her, one hand insistent on her cheek, the other one closing the laptop, placing it on the bedside table, before pulling Sara into her lap.

Ava keeps kissing her, her mouth insistent, for a few moments. Her other hand comes up to Sara’s face as well, weaving into her hair. Sara’s hands slip under Ava’s shirt, ghosting over Ava’s stomach in the way she knows Ava loves.

When Ava eventually pulls away, her expression is earnest. “You really like him?”

“Yeah, Ava,” Sara says, running her hands further up Ava’s skin, until she’s teasing at the underside of Ava’s breasts, gasps escaping from Ava’s mouth just at the brush of Sara’s fingertips. “I do.”

Later, as they fall asleep, Sara’s thinking about him. About how he’s a doctor, about how he helps political causes, especially those for LGBT people, a cause he says it’s ‘close to his heart’ on the side. About how his hair is somehow the exact same shade as Ava’s. About how his eyes crease the same way Ava’s do when he smiles, how their stoney blue colour is almost identical.

About how they both like him, about how he feels _right_ to both of them in a way they can’t explain.

And about how finding him means they’re a step closer, means that this is real and happening—and Sara’s the happiest she’s ever been in her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gonna be honest, don't know when the next chapter will be out. maybe sooner than this, since i'm kinda just accepting that i don't need to spend ages editing what i've written already before posting. as always, @_avasharpe on twitter, and directoravasharpe on tumblr.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello ladies and gays. the other day i remembered that chapter five is a christmas chapter and it would feel weird to put that up after christmas so you're getting a chapter next sunday and then then the sunday before christmas as well
> 
> this one's a little angsty, a little sexy and a little fluffy, just like all the best chapters. we're also getting to the ~assisted reproduction part of the story so if u wanna skip that it's nearish the end of the chapter, but it's not like... graphic

When they wake up late the next morning, Sara in Ava’s arms, the first thing Ava does is get the laptop out again. It opens right onto Adam's face. Ava turns to Sara, biting her lip. “You still like him?”

Sara nods, leans in for a kiss, closing the laptop back down as she twists properly into Ava’s arms, loving how Ava feels when she’s still loose and relaxed from being half asleep. “I still like him,” she whispers against Ava’s lips.

They give themselves three months.Three months to find someone they like better. They take turns trawling the banks’ websites, bringing up shortlists, going through them, but, still, no-one ever comes as close to perfect as Adam.

There are men Sara really likes, men Ava really likes, but never both of them for the same person, and they never like them more.

And so, after waking up to his picture every couple of days for three months straight, something they’d gotten into the habit of, to get used to him but to also be sure no opinions changed overnight Sara grips Ava’s hand and says, “It’s him, baby. It’s him. I know we were wary about going with the very first person we chose, but I promise, I’ve been going into every single search with an open mind. If I’d found someone utterly perfect, I would’ve said. But I didn’t. He’s the best. I want him. I want him for our baby. I want to have this baby with you, Ava. I can’t wait any longer.”

She’s expecting Ava to push back, to worry at her lip and insist they keep looking, keep going to make sure he really is the best possible option—but she doesn’t. Instead, she just smiles as Sara tucks hair behind her eyes, and says, “Yeah, darling, I think so, too. He’s right. We’ve searched through enough other guys to know that he’s right. Let’s do this.”

“We can start now?” Sara asks.

“Yeah,” Ava says, still smiling, pulling Sara close, kissing her. “Yeah. I can arrange it all. You don’t need to worry about anything.” Sara opens her mouth to protest, to say that she can help, but Ava just shushes her. “You’re gonna be the one carrying the baby, Sara. Let me at least take this off of your hands.”

Sara tilts her head in recognition. “Okay. Fair. You do all the legwork. I’ll just sit still and look pretty,” she jokes.

Ava just smiles wider, her eyes softening, her expression dripping with fondness. “You’re extremely good at that,” she whispers. Her hand is still around Sara’s neck, and she moves her fingers gently, brushing over the tiny hairs on the nape of Sara’s neck.

Sara feels flush rising on her cheeks, the same way it always does when Ava is quite this earnest. She ducks her head, and Ava just pulls her closer, tucking Sara’s head under her chin, her arm sliding down Sara’s back to wrap around her waist.

“Well,” Ava says, “maybe the looking pretty bit. Not so much the sitting still bit.”

At that, Sara laughs, the sound vibrating through Ava’s skin. When she pulls away, Ava’s face is still creased into a smile, and she can’t help but place both of her hands on Ava’s cheeks, pull her in for a few more kisses, dropping them lightly on her lips. “Fuck, baby. I love you so much. I love you _so_ much.” Her fingers still stroke across Ava’s cheeks as she speaks, and she wonders at the way she can feel Ava’s expression return to a smile.

The way they’re so intimate. The way she gets to touch Ava, kiss her, _love_ her every day of her life.

“How did I get this lucky?” Sara says, her voice full of awe as she takes Ava in. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“I think I should be asking _you _those questions,” Ava says, quietly, and it’s a reminder that, no matter how hard she tries to act like she’s fine, she’s always more insecure even than Sara.

Sara brings their foreheads together. Ava’s eyes close, and she lets out a breath.

“You loved me,” Sara says, simply. “You loved me even when it difficult and messy and would’ve been easier not to.”

At that, Ava smiles a weak smile, one corner of her mouth quirking upwards. “Would never have been easier not to love you,” she murmurs. “You were too easy to love. You hardly had to do anything for me to fall in love with you. Trying to stop was so much harder.”

The words spread warmth throughout Sara’s body, because that wasn’t really something anybody other than Ava had ever said. She’d never been the person who was easy to love. That had always been Laurel.

Now, though, there’s not a hint of dishonesty in Ava’s voice—not that there ever is. She’s being completely honest.

It feels better than anything.

“I mean, same, baby,” Sara says. “I’m pretty sure I was in love with you from the second I saw you. Even when I was trying to hate you.”

Ava sighs, shakes her head. “We’re a pair, aren’t we?”

Sara laughs. “Yeah. But we got here. We made it. We’re gonna have another kid. You wanna tell Lottie this evening? She’s been so good about not pushing us. I feel like she’d want to know about this decision.”

Ava nods. “Yeah. Let’s tell her this evening.” There’s no trepidation on her face, just excitement, and Sara’s glad. Glad that the worry Ava had when they were first talking about this is gone. glad that she knows in her heart that Charlotte will be happy. Glad that they’re _here_. “She’s going to be so pleased.”

“Yeah, baby, she is.”

So, later, once they’ve had dinner, when they’re settled in the couch, some reality show playing that none of them are really paying attention to, Ava looks up, and turns the TV off. That snaps Charlotte’s attention up from her phone. She frowns. “Why’d you do that?”

Ava gets up from the seat she was in, gestures at Charlotte to shuffle along, closer to Sara, and she does, letting Ava collapse next to her. “You weren’t watching it,” Ava says.

“I was _half_ watching it,” Charlotte protests.

Ava waves this away. “If you care that much, we can watch it on catch up, baby. But we need to speak to you, so can you just”—she gestures at the phone—“put that down a sec?”

Charlotte clicks it locked, sets it in her lap. “Yeah?”

“We just wanted to… warn you that over these next few months, we might be a little distracted. Because we found a donor we like, and, uh…” Ava finds Sara’s hand, gripping it for reassurance. “We’re going to start properly trying, now. It seemed like a good time, to do it over your vacation.”

“You’re going to start trying to get pregnant _now?” _Charlotte asks, a grin spreading across her face.

“Yeah, baby. We are.”

“Holy _shit_,” she says, jumping up.

Ava gasps. “Charlotte!”

“She’s just excited,” Sara murmurs across the gap Charlotte had left.

“Sorry. Sorry,” Charlotte says. “I gotta go tell like… _all_ my friends. They are going to be _so _jealous. None of them have a _baby_ sibling. I am going to rub this in their faces _so _much.”

“Wait,” Ava calls, as Charlotte reaches the door. Charlotte turns back around. “You can’t tell anyone just yet, sweetie. Not until she’s actually pregnant.”

Charlotte pouts. “_No-one?_”

Ava screws up her mouth. “You can tell Jessica. We’ve already talked about this with Ray and Nora, so she might know already. Just… we don’t know how long this will take or if it will even work, so…”

Charlotte sighs. “Yeah, no, I get it.”

“Come here,” Ava says, her voice softening, beckoning her back. Charlotte crossed back over the room, collapsing down between them. “Once it’s done and she’s pregnant and showing you can tell as many people as you want. It’s just… getting pregnant is complicated and it’ll be harder if there’s lots of people who know. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” Charlotte says, nodding. “Yeah. No. It does.”

Ava strokes her hand through Charlotte’s hair. “Thanks, baby. We just need you to keep quiet a little while longer.”

“But I can tell Jessica?”

Sara nods. “Yeah. She’s a sensible kid. She’ll know to keep it quiet.”

“Okay,” Charlotte says, getting up again. “Cool. Cool.” At the door, she pauses again. “I’m really excited, guys. Really excited.”

As she leaves, Sara turns to Ava, gripping her hand tighter. “We’re getting so close, babe. So close. Have you arranged anything yet?”

Ava nods, her fingers tracing lines on Sara’s palm. “Yeah. I’ve contacted the clinic. I did that today, while I was at work, confirmed an appointment I asked about and provisionally booked months ago, when we decided on our three month deadline. We’ve got an appointment at the clinic two weeks from today. It’s firm booked now, but if you want to wait longer we can—”

“No,” Sara says, cutting her off. “Two weeks sounds great. I don’t want to wait anymore. I want to do this _now._ I want this so much, baby.”

Ava smiles. “I know. I know. Two weeks, then,” she says, pulling Sara closer. Her hands slide under Sara’s shirt, ghosting over her muscles, settling on her stomach. Sara feels a twinge of _something _in the back of her mind, but ignores it. “Our kid’s gonna be in here,” she whispers. “Our second kid, holy shit, Sara, I—” she cuts herself off, the words choking in her throat.

The slightly uneasy feeling is forgotten when Ava kisses her, hard, when she drags her upstairs, when they have to break apart on the landing when Charlotte wanders out towards the bathroom, and raises an eyebrow at them and their obviously rumpled clothes.

“Sorry, honey, we’re just—”

“—disgustingly in love,” Charlotte finishes, a smirk on her face. “I already knew that,” she says, as she closes the door behind her.

Sara manages to look guilty for a second, and then dissolves into laughter once they’re inside their room, Ava trying to look stern but also dissolving into giggles, giggles that Sara’s drinks up as she kisses her, pushing her back towards the bed.

Charlotte is going to Sara’s dad’s for the weekend. About six months after they’d gotten together, Ava had agreed that Charlotte should meet Sara’s parents. It had started slowly—afternoons and lunches and evening meals, but, now, she’s pretty comfortable with Quentin, if not with Dinah, who seems to always be unavailable.

In the spring, Charlotte had spent a weekend there, and really enjoyed it, so, now, she’s doing it again. If it’s because the clinic appointment is in a couple of days, and they want some private time before Sara could potentially be pregnant, they don’t mention it, but Quentin has a knowing look in his eye when he picks her up. It had taken him exactly five minutes of knowing Ava for him to like her, and when Sara had told him about their plans, he’d been overjoyed. There’s genuine happiness on his face as he takes Charlotte away—even if it’s slightly marred by the fact he’s obviously thinking too much about his daughter’s sex life to be comfortable.

When the door closes, Sara turns to Ava, her hands clasped. “So. You want dinner first, or should we just get straight to it?” she asks, raising an eyebrow, stepping closer into Ava’s space, letting her hands linger on Ava’s waist.

Ava rolls her eyes. “You _know _I bought fancy food to cook. We’re having dinner first.”

“Mmm,” Sara hums, pressing up on her toes, leaning closer, kissing Ava’s neck, the sensitive spot just under her ear that always makes her shiver. “I was hoping you’d forget.”

“Well,” Ava says, leaning into Sara’s mouth for just a second before lightly pushing her away. “I didn’t. So we’re going to eat, and then we’re going to watch one of those movies that you like that has too much violence to watch while Charlotte is here, and _then_ we can get to it.”

Sara sucks in a breath, closing her eyes. “You planning everything like that _shouldn’t_ be hot, but…”

“It is?” Ava suggests, a small smirk on her face.

“Yep,” Sara admits.

Ava smiles, drops a kiss on her lips, and then pulls her into the kitchen.

She starts preparing things, and Sara pours her a drink, handing it over. Mostly she just watches as Ava does things, but, eventually, Ava hands her a knife, and she chops some vegetables.

Just under an hour later, the food is done, and they eat it in the low light of the living room, hands joined. It gets eaten slowly, because Ava is talking through everything for the 100th time, and Sara is just watching her fondly, taking it all in. She doesn’t need to hear it all again, but it makes Ava feel better to discuss it, to go through it, and she’s perfectly happy to indulge that, if it makes Ava feel less anxious, more secure.

When everything is cleared away, all the dishes washed and surfaces cleaned, they settle into the couch. It’s a horror movie, and Ava isn’t particularly into them, but Sara has a feeling she gets a kick out of curling up into Sara, clutching onto her arm, occasionally hiding underneath the blanket.

At some point, Ava starts looking more stressed, screwing up her nose at a particularly gruesome bit and Sara turns the volume down slightly, whispers, “Stop looking for this bit if you don’t like it,” and Ava does, turning her head into Sara’s neck. Sara feels her eyelashes brush against Sara’s skin as she closes her eyes. As she watches the movie, Sara murmurs, “You want me to help you relax a bit, baby?”

Ava nods, hums against Sara’s skin, knowing what she means, “Yeah.”

“You okay with me still watching it? It’s got like ten minutes left, but we can turn it off if you want.”

“No. It’s fine. Just touch me, Sara. I need you.” As Sara’s fingers move lower, under the blanket in their laps, under Ava’s pants and her underwear, Ava presses her face closer into Sara’s neck, a tiny whimper escaping her mouth when Sara presses down. “Sara, please…”

“Shhh, Ava. It’s okay. I got you. I’ve always got you.” And she does. As the movie finishes, as the credits roll, Ava tenses, sighs, comes, her cheeks flushed.

“I love you,” Ava whispers. Sara pulls her hand away, and Ava looks at the TV. “Good movie?”

Sara shrugs. “Not sure. I got kinda distracted at the end there,” she says, reaching up to tuck some hair behind Ava’s ear. She’d been trying to be casual. To get Ava off while still watching, to act like she was chill and undisturbed by Ava falling apart next to her, like it might be hotter if she were cool and detached. She’d failed. Her eyes had flicked between the screen and Ava, before finally settling on her girlfriend, perfect under her fingers.

“Sorry,” Ava says, ducking her head down, biting her lip.

“Don’t be silly,” Sara says, sliding into Ava’s lap, her hands on Ava’s waist. She leans down to press a kiss to Ava’s neck. “You’re better than any movie.” The pink tinge is still on Ava’s cheeks. Sara moves her mouth, kisses the corner of Ava’s lip in a blatant tease. “_Any_ movie,” she almost growls. “Let’s go upstairs, baby. Take me upstairs.”

Ava does, lifting Sara out of the seat, carrying her as far as the stairs, picking her back up when they’re at the top. In their room, she deposits Sara on the bed. Sara watches her with careful eyes, watches how she bites her lip and takes her in.

She pulls Sara’s pants down. Sara shuffles backwards, need pulsing through her. Ava drops down until her legs are straddling Sara’s hips, her fingers going to the buttons on Sara’s shirt, slowly undoing them. As she does, she leans her mouth down, kissing the skin she’s exposing. When all the buttons are undone, she pushes the fabric away, sits back. “Fuck, Sara. You’re so beautiful.” Her hands slide over the lines of Sara’s stomach. “You’re so—”

She ducks her head down, licking a stripe down Sara’s abs, and Sara should like it. Ava’s done this hundreds of times, her teeth nipping at the V that disappears into Sara’s underwear, her hands pressed into the muscle on Sara’s waist, and Sara’s always loved it, loved the feel of her tongue and the way her fingertips dig into hard muscle.

So, she should like it today.

But, she doesn’t.

There’s something screaming in her mind, something Sara can’t quite identify, and then Ava kisses just above the line of her underwear, and says, “God. Do you know how fucking _hot_ all these muscles are, babe?” and everything in Sara’s body tenses, her mind freaking out, something inside of her snapping.

It’s all she can do to gasp out, “Stop. Stop. Ava. Baby. Stop. Please. Stop.”

She didn’t need to repeat it so many times, because Ava does, immediately after the very first ‘Stop’, drawing back, swinging her legs off Sara. “Babe?” Her face is stricken with worry. “Sara? What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

Sara feels like she can’t breathe. She hasn’t felt like this in years, not since that first day in Starling. The world is turning black on her, and she scrambles upwards, sliding off the bed and stumbling across the floor towards the bathroom. It takes a second for Ava to snap into action, pushing off the bed, her face shocked. “Sara. Talk to me. Please.” Sara wants to say something. Desperately wants to be able to calm the worry on Ava’s face, but she can’t. Partly because she’s not sure she can even physically speak yet, and partly because she doesn’t even know exactly what’s wrong.

So she does the worst possible thing, which is to go into the bathroom, and close the door, lock it and slide down the wood to the floor, her head in her hands. She doesn’t talk to Ava. She doesn’t even _look _at her, because she’s terrified and confused and the world feels like it’s caving in on her.

“Sara,” comes Ava’s voice, desperate and heartbreaking, up close against the door. “Please. Talk to me. What did I do? I need you to tell me what I did because I don’t want to ever do it again. I’m so sorry, darling. Just. Please unlock the door or just _talk_ to me at least. _Something._”

Sara tries to speak again, and all that comes out is a gasping sob, her mind spinning, trying to work out what Ava had done that had set her off like this.

“Babe.” Ava’s voice sounds tortured, and Sara hates it. “I can hear you crying. Let me in. Please. This is killing me. I hate not being able to help you. Please. Just unlock it.”

Somehow, Sara manages to take a breath of air, and she regains enough sense to be able to realise that she shouldn’t be shutting Ava out, so she reaches upwards, unlocks the door, and moves to the side to let Ava in.

As soon as Ava’s in the room, she drops to the floor. “Can I touch you?” she asks, her voice dripping with worry, with earnestness. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

Another sob rips through Sara, tears rolling down her face, but she nods.

“I can touch you?”

Sara nods again, and Ava leans against the door, then pulls Sara closer, gathering her up into her arms, settling her in her lap. Sara presses her face into Ava’s shoulder. Ava’s arms are tight around her, stopping her from floating away, stopping her from losing herself in the darkness.

One of her hands comes up to cup Sara’s head, and she presses a kiss to her hair. “Oh, darling. Tell me what’s wrong, Sara. Please. Please. I love you so much and this is _killing_ me. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you.” Sara pulls back, tries to speak, and fails, opening and closing her mouth. Ava’s thumbs come up to wipe tears from under Sara’s lash line. “God,” she murmurs. “You’re still beautiful even when you’re like this.”

And then Sara stiffens, the darkness rushing in again, and everything clicks into place. Everything makes sense.

A voice echoes through her head, a voice she hasn’t heard in over ten years.

Oliver’s.

Oliver’s voice in the back of that police car.

“_You thought we were _together_? In _love? _Fuck, Sara. I was with you because you’re hotter than Laurel and easier to get into bed. She was all laced up. You were so much more eager. I thought we both knew this was just sex. I was with your _sister_. You really think I would move straight on to you for _real_? It’s not like I was with you for the sparkling conversation. I mean, no offense, but I’m at an Ivy League. I need someone a bit cleverer than a college dropout for a girlfriend. I just liked you because you’re hot and fun and you’re good in bed.”_

Sara hadn’t even wanted to bother trying to fight the charges after that. She was seventeen, heartbroken, and completely and utterly crushed. She realises now that Oliver’s words had ingrained something deep down inside her: that at the root of it, all anyone would ever love her for was her looks.

And she already knows what getting pregnant does to her body, and it’s only going to be worse this time, with ten extra years and a lot more damage to her body in the meantime. Alcohol and fights and and short nights of sleep and constantly pushing it to the limit. She knows that the muscles Ava loves so much will be gone. That she’ll be grumpy and tired and sick and her hair will get greasy and she’ll be irritable all the time and the furthest possible thing from _beautiful. _

And she’s terrified Ava’s not going to love her any more.

A tiny voice in the back of her mind tells her that’s ridiculous, but she can’t concentrate on it, can’t listen to it, because the fear is completely and utterly overwhelming. All that exists is this terror, telling her that she’s going to lose everything she holds so dear, and she can’t see or hear anything.

She realises that too late: that for the past thirty seconds all her senses have disappeared, and she’s been completely in her own world. It’s only when she hears Ava saying, “Sara. Sara. _Please,” _her hands on Sara’s face, that Sara finally returns to herself a little. “Come back to me. You’re zoning out. I haven’t seen you like this since that first visit. Sara. Please. What did I do?”

Sara blinks, slowly, and her eyesight comes back, Ava’s worried eyes filling her vision. She sucks air into her lungs, and then says, “Beautiful. You called me beautiful. And… before. Hot. You said I was hot.”

Ava’s face is confused. “I’ve called you those things thousands of times, darling. What’s different now? Tell me what’s different? What’s wrong? Please, Sara. Tell me.”

Sara ducks her head, whispers it out. “All anyone has ever wanted me for has been my looks and… I’m not going to be beautiful anymore. Not… once I’m pregnant. All my muscles are gonna disappear and I’m gonna gain weight and I’m not going to be the woman that you fell in love with and—”

“Sara,” Ava says, her voice firm. “Stop talking.” Sara does, blinking. “Can I kiss you? I want to kiss you, but I need you to tell me it’s okay.”

“Yeah, you can kiss me,” Sara says, her voice hoarse, and so Ava does, pressing in close, joining their lips together softly. Her mouth is warm. She tastes like home, like safety, like love.

When she pulls back, her hands are still on Sara’s face.

“Sara. I need you to listen to me. Are you listening to me?” Sara nods, taking long, shuddering breaths. “I’m not Oliver.” At that, Sara’s breath hitches in her throat, at Ava being able to work out the exact root of this in seconds, without Sara having to say anything. “Whatever he made you think, it’s not true. You’re so much more than that. I’m not in love with you because you’re beautiful—although you are, and you _will be_, no matter what you look like—I’m in love with you because of _you. _

“Because you’re funny and smart and kind and you’re a good mother to Charlotte, and you’re hard working and brave and you make everyone around you feel bolder. I’m not with you because you’re _hot_. I don’t think anyone has other than Oliver has been, because I’m pretty sure that was just him being an absolute asshole. You think Nyssa was with you because of your looks? Because, from everything you’ve told me, you were a little bit of a mess, then.”

Ava’s voice is calm, cutting through the haze.

“I… was,” Sara says, quietly. “I’d just lost Charlotte and I had all the baby weight and people kept beating me up because I was small and blonde and in there for such a _stupid_ crime.”

At the mention of Sara getting hurt, Ava winces, but carries on. “So you weren’t exactly looking your best?”

“No,” Sara says, her voice still small.

“Was she in love with you?”

Sara sighs. “Yeah. We were… desperately in love. It was fucking _tragic_.”

“That’s what I thought. She was your first love, Sara. Not him. And she loved you for _you, _not some notion of beauty. And I love you for the same thing. I love you because you’re Sara and you love me and you make my life better than it’s ever been before. And you just happen to be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, but you’re _always_ going to be beautiful, because you’re beautiful for being _you_. So it doesn’t matter if you’re pregnant or not or if you work out or not or _anything, _because you’ll always be beautiful to me.

“I love you, and I don’t truly think you think I’m going to love you less because you’re having _my kid_. I know you don’t think that low of me. I think you’re panicking and hiding, and Sara,” she says, pulling her closer, so that their foreheads are close, “you don’t need to be scared. Not of this. We’re in this together, and all you having this kid is going to do is make me love you _more_. Do you understand me? All I’m ever going to do is love you more.”

Sara knows she means it. Knows she never would’ve thought anything else. But, somehow, hearing Ava spell it out, say it all explicitly, makes it much more real. More believable. Much better at calming her speeding heart.

“You’re not going to think I’m gross when I’m nine months pregnant and I can’t get out of bed on my own?”

“No, my love, I’m not,” Ava says, tilting her head up to kiss Sara’s forehead. “I love you. I love you. And I want to do this with you. But if you can’t do it. If you want to go through with it. I still mean what I said months ago. I will _never_ make you do something you don’t want to do, even if your reasons might be a little illogical.”

Sara lets out a hiccupy laugh. “You’re calling me illogical?”

“A bit, yeah,” Ava says, tucking hair behind Sara’s ear, wiping some more tears from her face. “Because I _know _you know I don’t feel that way. I _know _you know I care about more than how you look. So this fear, it’s illogical. But it’s your body, and I really would never make you do anything. Never. So I’ll love you no matter what you decide.”

“You’d love me even if I backed out now? After months of preparation? After telling Charlotte?”

“God, Sara, obviously. I wasn’t kidding that first day. My love for you isn’t contingent on anything but you loving me and Charlotte. Nothing else is a requirement. If you don’t want this, then I don’t want this. It’s as simple as that, Sara. I care about you so much more than any hypothetical kid. If you can’t do it, we don’t do it.”

Tears are falling from Sara’s eyes again, just at Ava’s voice, at how caring she is.

She’s never been cared for _quite_ like this, has never had someone who cared quite so unconditionally.

And even though Ava’s convincing her that she doesn’t have to go through with it, all it’s showing is that she _can_ go through with it.

Sara takes a breath. “No. I can do it. I can do it.”

Ava doesn’t even let a hint of emotion show on her face. Sara can tell she’s holding back, trying not to influence Sara. “You can? Are you sure? We can put it off. It doesn’t have to be next week. It doesn’t have to be then, darling.” Her hand comes up to stroke Sara’s cheek. “All I want is for you to be happy.”

“No,” Sara says, leaning into Ava’s hand. “I know. I know. I… don’t know. I just… panicked. It was irrational and stupid and—”

“Hey. No. It wasn’t stupid. It’s not your fault that Oliver was an utter dickhead who broke your heart and left you pregnant and with psychological scars at _seventeen_, Sara. Honestly, I figured you might… panic at some point. You’ve been so chill this whole time. But having Charlotte and losing her wasn’t easy. _You _told me that. It’s natural that you’d panic. But I just need you to know that you _don’t _need to panic. I’ve got you. Always.”

Sara blinks. “Always?”

Ava holds out a pinky. “Promise.”

Sara takes it, and then pushes herself up off the floor, pulling Ava with her. She leans into Ava, shivering slightly, because, all this time, she’s been only half dressed. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, into Ava’s chest. “I’m sorry. I panicked. I don’t even know where it came from. I _want _this.”

Ava hand comes back up to cup Sara’s head. “I know. I know. It’s okay. Let’s go back to bed.”

“Not—”

“No,” Ava says, obviously not even needing to hear the end of the sentence. “No sex. Let’s just sleep, babe.”

She sets Sara on the edge of the bathtub, then pulls the shirt off of her shoulders, easing it down her arms. For a second, she disappears into the bedroom, and returns with Sara’s sleep shirt, pulling it over Sara’s head. Usually, it’s Sara taking this role, treating Ava like she’s fragile but, for today, Sara’s perfectly happy to give it over to Ava, to let herself be taken care of. Ava wipes some hair out of Sara’s face, then frowns, goes over to the sink, and comes back with a damp cloth.

“I’m just gonna wash your face a bit, okay, babe,” she says, crouching down. Sara closes her eyes, lets Ava’s gentle fingertips brush over her skin, relishes in the warm water on the cloth. When Ava’s done, she steps back, looking down fondly at Sara.

Sara looks up, and suddenly finds herself unbearably exhausted, like the panic has taken a physical toll on her.

It’s like Ava can see her eyes drooping, because one second Sara is sitting on the edge of the tub and the next second, Ava has pulled her to her feet, guided Sara’s arm around her neck, and has scooped Sara into her arms.

A surprised, “Oh,” escapes from her mouth, but then she relaxes into it, leaning her head against Ava’s chest. “This is nice,” she whispers.

“You looked tired,” Ava says, quietly. “This is okay?”

“Mmm,” Sara hums. “It’s good.”

Ava’s arms are strong around her. She likes the feeling. Of being held. Of being looked after. Of trusting someone enough to be this vulnerable around them.

In the bedroom, Ava lays her on the bed, pulls the covers over her. She leans down, and Sara pulls her closer. “Kiss me,” she says. “I want you to kiss me.” And Ava does, first sitting down, and then letting herself be pulled on top of Sara, kissing carefully.

“I love you,” Ava breathes. “Unconditionally. Whatever you decide.”

“I want the baby,” Sara murmurs, feeling sleep overtaking her. “I _need_ to have this baby with you, Ava.”

“Okay,” Ava says, dropping one last kiss on Sara’s forehead, before rolling under the covers herself. “Okay,” she repeats, sliding closer to Sara, wrapping her arms around her, fitting them perfectly together. Ava usually only has her arms loose around Sara, but tonight, Sara pulls them lower, around her stomach. Ava’s fingers skim her muscles through the shirt. “You _know _I love you for more than just these, right?” Ava whispers into Sara’s skin, her mouth pressing kisses onto the nape of Sara’s neck, her shoulder.

Sara sighs. “Yeah. No. I do. I promise. It was just a panic. I’m okay.”

“Sure?” Ava murmurs.

“Yeah,” Sara breathes, bringing her hand down over Ava’s. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I always do.”

“I know. But just… don’t. Think of the baby that’s going to be here soon. Right here,” Sara says, keeping Ava’s hands tight on her stomach.

“Okay,” Ava says, softly, and then Sara feels her relax a little more, and her breathing gets more regular, and the knowledge that Ava has drifted off helps Sara fall asleep as well.

When they wake up the next morning, Ava is in even more attentive than normal. More careful than normal. It feels a little like she’s tiptoeing, and Sara suddenly has a realisation how hard Sara stopping them like that must have hit her.

“Ava,” she says, after Ava had obviously hesitated before going in for her morning kiss, before finally deciding to go for it. “Baby. I’m sorry for pulling the plug last night.”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Ava says, quietly, sitting down next to Sara, her fingers twisting in her lap. “You should always feel like you’re able to stop. You should never feel like you have to do something you don’t want to.”

Sara reaches out for Ava’s hands, covering them with her own. “Yeah. No. I know. Maybe that was… the wrong wording. I’m not sorry I did it. But I’m sorry for… how I did it. It wasn’t fair to you for me to just… run like that. Not tell you or even _try_ to tell you what was going on. I’m not going to do that again, baby, I promise. I’ll tell you if anything isn’t right. But I need you to promise something as well.”

Ava looks up, her eyes watery. “What?”

“That you’re not going to tiptoe around me. You don’t have to be careful. You just have to trust me to tell you if I freak out again. Can you do that?”

Ava nods, a weak smile on her face. “Yeah. No, yeah. I can do that.”

Sara brings her hand up to Ava’s cheek. “We’re okay, Aves. We’re more than okay. We’re gonna have another kid.” Ava nods again, then moves her hand to grip the neckline of Sara’s shirt, tugging her closer for a kiss, not holding back in the slightest as her tongue runs over Sara’s lips.

But, even if she’s not careful with the way she touches Sara anymore, throughout the day, she keeps on checking in with Sara about the appointment, so much and so often that from anyone else it would be annoying, but from Ava it’s just endearing, a sign of how much she cares.

Sara keeps saying, “Yes,” because she’s sure. The panic had been a blip. What she wants more than anything is to have this baby. That doesn’t change over the day. Doesn’t change as they curl up in the evening with takeaway, as they finally get around to the sex they had planned for the previous night.

Ava whispers things about the baby in her ear as she fucks her, the toy sinking deeper each time, and with her eyes closed, Sara can almost imagine that _this_—just her and Ava, in this moment—is how they’re gonna have their kid, and maybe Ava is thinking the same thing, because she’s talking about how perfect Sara is, how perfect _their_ kid is going to be.

Her voice is mostly soft, in sharp contrast to the snapping of her hips, but then she leans down, her arms either of side of Sara’s head, and almost _purrs_, “You’re going to look so pretty carrying _my_ baby, Sara,” and Sara comes on the spot, pushed over the edge by the possessiveness and the tone of her voice, as well as the idea that it’s going to be Ava’s baby—hers, and hers alone—inside her.

It’s mind blowing, exactly the sex they’d been going for the previous night, Sara coming so hard it feels like there are stars floating around in her mind.

As she lies there, skin shiny with sweat, Ava still inside her, everything is so overwhelming, so perfect, and tears spring from her eyes, only the second time she’s cried after sex with Ava.

Ava’s forehead creases in concern, and she slips out of the role, the tone of her voice immediately softening, a thumb reaching out to wipe at the tears. “Hey. Sara. Are you okay? Did I go too far with what I was saying? I wasn’t really thinking—“

“No,” Sara says, pulling her down to kiss her, closing her eyes as the toy shifts inside her and sends sparks through her body. “I told you: I’d say if anything was wrong. I just…” She trails off, biting her lip. “It kinda feels like we just made a baby, doesn’t it?”

“Oh,” Ava says, softly, a shy smile on her face. “Yeah. A little. That was why I—“

“Why you wanted to use the toy,” Sara says, finishing Ava’s sentence for her, smiling, reaching up to wipe Ava’s hair out of her face.

“Was that stupid?” Ava asks, one hand covering her face. “I know it’s not real, I know I can’t actually get you pregnant, but, I don’t know…”

“No,” Sara says, her voice soft, reassuring. “It wasn’t stupid. It was cute. And,” she says, as Ava moves again, the toy dragging along her insides, eking out one last tiny bit of pleasure, “hot. It was very hot. But I think… enough now. Can you—?” she asks, and Ava takes the cue, rolling off of her.

Sara closes her eyes, basking in the remnants of pleasure she still feels. Ava disappears into the bathroom. When she returns, Sara has sat up, her eyes open. The view of Ava walking across their room, completely naked, is breathtaking. Mouthwatering. “Have I ever told you how good your boobs are?” Sara asks, suddenly desperate to get her mouth on them.

Ava laughs, dropping back down onto the bed, falling into Sara’s arms. “You have. Many times, in fact.”

“Mmm,” Sara hums, her hands on Ava’s waist, positioning her at the right angle for Sara to bend down to suck at the soft tissue on Ava’s chest. “Past me knows what’s up.” Tiny noises escape from Ava’s mouth, and Sara lets her hands move further down, over the curve of her ass. “You know what?” Sara says, moving her mouth back up so she’s whispering into Ava’s neck. “I don’t care if it wasn’t real. It felt real. _You_ made it feel real, baby.” Ava pulls back, and then smiles, raising an eyebrow at Sara. “What?”

“If you _really_ want it to feel real,” Ava says, “I’m gonna have to come. I haven’t come yet.” The smile has turned into a smirk, and Sara rolls her eyes, pushing Ava backwards out of her lap, guiding Ava’s legs over her shoulders.

“God, baby, I was _getting there_,” she says. She pokes Ava’s stomach, bending her mouth down. “You’re so impatient.”

“You _make _me impatient by looking like _that_ when you’re being fucked,” Ava grumbles, and Sara doesn’t even have to ask what ‘that’ is, because Ava’s talked about it before. Has talked about what seeing Sara naked and wanting Ava does to her. About how much it makes her feel safe, even when she’s at her most vulnerable. About how much of a relief it is to finally let herself want someone that way again, how the aching between her legs

Ava’s words make a warm kind of love spread through her, but she just snorts, spreading Ava’s legs. “Just shut up and let me eat you out,” she says.

“Don’t need to shut up for you to—“

And then Sara presses her mouth to her with no warning, and Ava’s words disappear into a gasp.

Sara just smirks against her.

After, Ava keeps asking her, all through the rest of the weekend, every morning when they wake up, every night when they go to sleep.

She keeps saying yes.

And then the day arrives. They’d already had an appointment with a doctor. Everything is arranged. Everything is prepared.

They sit in the car, outside the clinic in Star City. “You’re sure you want to do this?” Ava asks. “You can still say no. I won’t mind.”

Sara shakes her head, pulling Ava in for a kiss. “Nope. We’re doing this,” she says, getting out of the car, dragging Ava out. Ava worries at her lip. “I think you’re more nervous than I am, baby,” Sara continues, laughing. “You don’t need to be. I want this.”

“You want this?”

“More than anything.”

“Okay.”

Inside, Ava does the talking, and they’re handing pages of forms to read and sign. Ava insists on going through them with a fine tooth comb, but it’s not like Sara would’ve pushed back: she’s fine cutting corners with most things, but not when it comes to her children. Once they’ve read through them all, once Ava is satisfied they say the right things, they sign them. Sara is always endeared by Ava’s signature. It’s large and swooping, the opposite of Sara’s compact one, tight letters spelling out her name. Utilitarian.

When they’re done, they’re led through, away from the reception room, to another one. It’s brighter white, and very obvious what it’s for, with all sorts of scary looking equipment. Once in there, the nurse tells Sara to ‘disrobe’ and let them know when they’re ready, and then leaves.

Ava blanches, running her fingers over the chair. “It looks terrifying,” she says.

Sara glances over her shoulder at it as she pulls her jeans off. “Just pretend it’s like… a weird sex thing.”

“Sara!” Ava gasps. “That does _not_ make it better.”

“What,” Sara says, pulling her panties down in a way she hopes will make Ava laugh, wiggling her hips, her thumbs under the waistband. “You’re saying you’ve never used something that looked like _that_ during sex?”

“No!” Ava says. “Have _you_?”

“Yeah. Well. It wasn’t exactly like that. It was smaller and darker and there were more straps and—“

“Okay,” Ava says, pressing a finger up against Sara’s lips. “Stop there.”

Sara pouts. “I didn’t get to the best bit.”

Ava raises an eyebrow as Sara settles onto the chair, covering herself up with the provided cloth in an over exaggerated flourish that makes the corners of Ava’s mouth quirk up. “What’s the best bit?”

“I fell off and broke my tailbone. Least sexy thing ever. Let me tell you, I was extremely glad it was not _me_ who bought that thing. Waste of money.”

At that Ava finally laughs, her face creasing into a real smile, and Sara sits back, satisfied, because she’s made Ava laugh, and, really, that’s all she ever wants to do. Making Ava laugh has the effect Sara wanted, because she immediately seems more relaxed, squeezing Sara’s hand, sitting down next to her, and then pressing the buzzer they’d been shown.

While they wait, Ava leans down to press a kiss to Sara’s hand. “You got this. I’m so proud of you.”

Sara laughs. “I’m literally lying here and someone is gonna stick something up me. Not exactly hard work.”

Ava rolls her eyes. “Yes, thank you, my love, I do know how this works. I meant the whole thing. I’m proud of you for the whole thing.”

“Oh,” Sara says, and it’s not _new _information, but it strikes warmth throughout her whole body. She gazes fondly at Ava, relishing in how Ava gazes back.

They’re sitting like that when the OB-GYN walks in. She’s relatively young looking, a smile on her face. “Good afternoon. I’m Doctor Spencer. I’m expecting… Sara Lance for the insemination?” she asks pointing at Sara.

“Yep.”

“And your…” she looks at her clipboard. “...girlfriend. Ava Sharpe?”

Ava nods. “Yes.”

“Great. It looks like you’ve signed all the correct paperwork for unmarried female couples, so it will just be a minute.” She looks down at the clipboard again. “We’ve got donor sperm from donor number 342758. Adam F. Correct?”

Ava nods again. They’d both memorised the number weeks ago.

While the doctor prepares things, she chats to them. Most of the questions are easy to answer, until she asks, “Is this your first?”

Sara glances at Ava, and they say both ‘Yes’ and ‘No’ at the same time. Sara winces, then tries to explain. “We have a kid. But she wasn’t done”—she gestures at her legs—“this way. I just, uhh. Had sex.”

“Before you two were together?” Dr Spencer asks, absentmindedly.

Sara shoots another glance at Ava. “Yeah. Before we were together. But Ava adopted her… early on.” That works. It’s none of it a lie, even if it’s not the whole truth. “She’s _our_ kid.”

“Of course,” Dr Spencer says, her voice calm. “Now, if you could just relax, Sara, this will be done in a matter of minutes.”

Sara closes her eyes. Ava strokes her hand with a thumb, the tiny gesture relaxing her further. Sara knows what to expect, but, even so, when it starts, it’s cold, uncomfortable, and more than a little unpleasant.

“You okay?” Ava whispers.

Sara nods, then winces as she feels something else happening, a new sensation. She grips down on Ava’s hand a little harder. “Thirty seconds more, Sara, and then just the wait,” Dr Spencer explains. “I don’t have to be there for that. It can just be you and Ava.”

That’s good. She’ll be glad to be done with it and alone with Ava again. It’s not that the procedure is bad. But it’s not exactly fun. It’s just… a strange experience. The overwhelming sensation is just _strange_. So she’ll be relieved when it’s done.

And then, just as she thinks that, the Doctor pulls away, pulls everything away, and Ava squeezes Sara’s hand, beaming at her. “You did it,” she whispers, the smile still wide on her face.

“All done. Someone will let you know when you can leave, but just stay laid down until then, okay?”

“Can I put my clothes on? Or do I need to stay here with my vagina out?” Beside her, out of the corner of Sara’s eye, she sees the corners of Ava’s mouth twitch up again.

“No, Sara. You can put your clothes back on if Ava helps you and you stay down.”

And then she’s gone. Sara closes her eyes, taking deep breaths, then turns to Ava, opening them again after a second. “Well,” she says. “I was wrong.”

Ava quirks an eyebrow. “About what?”

“_That _was the least sexy thing ever.”

Ava’s face creases into a sympathetic smile. She stands up, stroking her fingers over Sara’s hairline. “I don’t think so,” she says.

“And how would you, Ava, dear, know that, since you weren’t the one with someone other than your girlfriend sticking something between your legs?”

“Because,” Ava says, leaning down, kissing Sara. “I was there. Ergo, automatically sexier than whatever that disaster before was.”

“Ohh,” Sara says. “_That’s _hot. You being confident. I like that. You’re right.” She pauses, looking Ava up and down. “You’re making me want to jump you right now,” she finishes, leaning up a little.

Ava presses her back down. “Unfortunately, my love, I’m putting your underwear back _on_, not taking it off.”

Sara pouts, and all it gets her is one more kiss, before Ava pulls her panties carefully back up.

Twenty minutes later, they’re told they can leave. Sara shimmies back into her jeans, pulls her flats back on. As they walk out, Ava’s hand rests protectively in the small of Sara’s back. In the car, Ava turns to her. “How are you feeling? Any cramps?”

Sara shakes her head, and Ava smiles, driving them home.

They’d agreed not to tell Charlotte they were trying until at least they’d done a test. The wait is going to be bad enough for the two of them, let alone letting Charlotte worry and stress about it as well. So, that evening, as they eat dinner, they’re not mentioning it, even if Sara can tell Ava is constantly thinking about it. She’s squeezing Sara’s hand under the table. They’re both slightly distracted, until Charlotte calls them out on it, and then they manage to snap out of it, fully concentrating on what Charlotte is saying.

Later, in bed, Ava screws up her mouth. “You think she worked it out?” she asks. “When we were weird?”

“Nah,” Sara says, pulling her downwards, under the covers. “It’s okay. I think she’d have said something. We’ve made sure she knows she can ask, if she has a question. If she asks, we tell her, right?”

Ava nods, settling into Sara’s arms. “Yeah.”

They fall asleep with Ava’s hands on Sara’s stomach again. The feeling is soothing.

When they wake up, Sara is sprawled on her back, the covers down near her hips, and, before she even opens her eyes, she feels Ava’s mouth on her stomach.

“I know it’s early,” Ava whispers. “But I can’t stop thinking… that could be our kid in there.”

Sara opens her eyes, reaching out a hand to stroke over Ava’s hair fondly. “I know. I feel the same.”

And then Ava sits back up. “We can’t get our hopes up, though, babe. You know that, right? It might not work this time.”

Sara nods, but, inside, she’s already getting her hopes up. She knows it’s illogical. But it just seems _right._

Two days later, and Sara’s hardly been able to focus on work. Every time she opens her laptop she ends up on websites that tell her the same thing: there’s no way to know until two weeks minimum. There won’t be any symptoms at all.

Still, she can’t help sliding her hand underneath her shirt, wondering.

She hadn’t had this last time. Hadn’t had an eager wait. Her pregnancy had been dumped on her with no warning, so she hadn’t the chance to wonder and worry and guess. Even if the wait is a little like torture, just _having it _is a luxury. And having someone to wait _with _is even more of a gift.

Having Ava there to listen to her worries. To soothe her when she wakes up from endless nightmares. To touch her and kiss her, and, after Sara presents her one evening with information that suggests sex might help, to lie her down and work into her, gentle and caring and loving, until Sara is a shivering mess, gasping out Ava’s name.

Afterwards, Sara just lies there, exhausted despite not being the one who’d just spent an hour eating her out, and lets Ava crawl all over her body, lavishing kisses everywhere, kissing every inch of skin, every sharp line and soft curve of muscle, ending up on her stomach.

Sara wants this to work _so _much, needs this so much, that it starts affecting her physically, and one night, she wakes up at 3am, suddenly nauseated, and has to run into the bathroom to throw up, Ava waking up seconds after Sara sprinted across the room, appearing by her side, pulling Sara’s hair out of her face.

“Babe?” she asks, her voice full of concern. Sara wipes her mouth, looks up at Ava, and then her hand goes automatically to her stomach, and Ava’s face gets even more worried. “Darling. You know this can’t be morning sickness, right? It’s too early.”

Sara nods, getting shakily to her feet, sitting down on the bathtub. “Yeah. I know. I think it’s just stress. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Oh, honey,” Ava says, crouching down, wiping hair out of Sara’s face. “Don’t apologise. I wouldn’t want you in here feeling bad on your own.” She sits down next to Sara, a protective arm wrapping around her back, resting her hand on her waist. Sara leans into her, sighing. “You okay to go back to bed?” Ava asks, her voice quiet.

“Can I get some water first?” Sara asks.

Ava gets up, fills a glass in the sink, and hands it to Sara, who downs it gratefully. When she’s done, Ava leads her back to bed. Ava falls asleep quickly. Sara doesn’t, her hand pressed against her stomach, worry spreading through her whole body.

When Ava wakes up, Sara’s has barely an hour more of sleep, but she doesn’t say that, doesn’t want to worry her. It was just a bad night. She’ll be fine.

Except, she isn’t. She can’t sleep. At night, she lies awake, consumed with worry. Eventually, Ava notices, and Sara has to confess that she hasn’t been sleeping.

Ava is understanding, like she always does, and looks up every pregnancy safe sleep remedy she can find, staying up and awake until Sara drifts off to sleep. In the days, she’s reassuring Sara, reminding her that she doesn’t need to worry, that they can try again, but Sara can’t _help_ but worry, because she’s built this up so much in her mind.

She’d built it up so much, and so, it’s almost not surprising when she wakes up one morning, wanders into the bathroom, and sees blood on her underwear. It’s almost as though this is the only way this could end.

As she stares down at the red on the fabric, it feels like the breath has been knocked out of her, escaping in a tiny gasp. She feels like she wants to cry, but all she can feel is numb.

When she opens the drawer under the sink, fumbling around for the products she’d hoped she wouldn’t be using for nine months, her fingers brush the pregnancy test Ava had bought a couple days ago, and _that’s _what forces tears to roll down her face.

She chucks her underwear in the laundry basket, and then walks slowly back into the bedroom, pulls a new pair of underwear out of the dresser and up her legs, and then continues towards the end of the bed. Ava looks up, sees the tears on Sara’s face, and is next to her in seconds, Sara’s face in her hands, cradling it, wiping at the tears with her thumbs. “Darling. What is it?”

“I’m sorry, baby” Sara whispers, closing her eyes.

“Sara. What for?”

“I got my period,” Sara says, leaning her forehead closer towards Ava. “I’m sorry, Ava.” More tears stream down her face, her heart breaking, guilt weighing down on her, and she collapses down onto the bed, Ava following her. “I’m sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT CHAPTER IS LESS ANGSTY I PROMISE LOVE YOU ALL XOXO GOSSIP LUCY PLS LEAVE COMMENTS I NEED THEM TO LIVE


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some fluff and smut to heal your hearts after last week <3

“What?” Ava breathes. “Sara. My love. Why are you saying _sorry_? We knew there was a huge chance it wouldn’t work first time. This isn’t your fault. How can you even suggest that? Please. Darling. Stop apologising,” she says, as she gathers Sara up in her arms, pulling her close, her hand cupping Sara’s head.

But Sara can’t stop, mumbling apologies into Ava’s shirt, tears soaking the fabric. “This is my fault. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, baby.”

At that, Ava pushes Sara’s head back, and pulls her in for a kiss, drowning Sara’s words with her lips. When she pulls back, her mouth is set in a hard line. “It’s not your fault, Sara. You know that. Logically, you know that this isn’t your fault. We knew we shouldn’t get our hopes up that it would work first time.”

Sara sucks in a gasping breath. When she speaks, her voice is watery. “But I _did _get my hopes up. I got them up and I stressed so much that I made myself sick and what if that’s what meant it didn’t work out? What if it _is_ my fault?”

“That’s not what made it not work, Sara,” Ava says, her voice slow, calm.

“But what if it _was_? What if I fucked up, and that’s why I’m not pregnant. Why we threw that money down the drain?”

“Sara. Stop. We didn’t throw the money down the drain. There was a _chance_. And even if you getting sick _did_ cause it, I don’t care. I don’t care, Sara. I knew we’d have to try multiple times. I was completely _ready _for us to try multiple times. I thought you were too. I would’ve said something if I’d realised _this_ was how you felt. If I’d known you felt like it not working was going to be your fault. Because it’s not, Sara. It’s not. You have to listen to me. This isn’t your fault.”

“I got my hopes up when I knew I shouldn’t have. Everything was just so perfect and—”

“Sara. Stop it.” Ava pauses. “Please, babe. This isn’t your fault. It’s not your fault for wanting this, Sara. But I need you to know that I am willing to try as many times as you’re happy to go through with. The money doesn’t matter, darling. We’ve got two incomes now. It’s okay. But, god, babe… this isn’t like you. All this… anxiety and stressing. It’s not like you. It’s like _me_. What’s changed? Why is this affecting you like this?”

Sara sniffs, tears rolling down her face. She knows she looks a mess. She looks up at Ava. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“No, Sara, it’s not,” Ava sighs. “Just talk to me. Whatever it is, we can get through it. I promise. I promise.”

“It’s _you_,” Sara gasps out. Ava’s mouth opens, her expression confused, but she lets Sara speak, and Sara’s grateful. “It’s just… I’ve never… I’ve never been this happy in my entire life, and…” she trails off, and Ava tilts her head, stroking her thumb over Sara’s cheek.

“This doesn’t look happy,” she says, her voice heartbreakingly sad.

“I’ve never been this happy in my entire life, and it’s because of how much I love you. How much you love me. And I wanted to give you this _one_ thing and I couldn’t even do that. I was too selfish and I got wrapped up in my head and I’m— I’m no better than the woman you met that first day. Only thinking of myself and what I want and—”

And then both of Ava’s hands are on Sara’s shoulders, and she shakes her just hard enough to stun Sara into silence.

“Sara. I’m going to give you an out because you’re on your period and are probably hormonal, but that’s the biggest pile of bullshit you’ve ever come out with.” Her voice is firm, no room to budge.

Sara is still silent, even her tears slowing in shock.

“You’ve never been selfish. Not even on that first day. Never. You _have_ always been thinking of me or Charlotte or both of us. I’ve never had any doubt that you’d put her before yourself.”

“You called me selfish—”

Ava shakes her head. “When I’d known you for _five_ minutes and it looked like you were gonna run out on my kid, Sara! I was terrified you were going to leave and wreck her! That was why I said what I did. But it became pretty damn clear pretty quickly that you were the furthest possible thing from selfish, that all you wanted was what was best for her.

“And,” Ava says, sighing, “that you didn’t think that was you. That you thought you’d be bad for her. That she’d be better without you. This is your problem, darling. You always think less of yourself. Even now. You’re saying you wanted to give me this ‘one thing’ like you don’t give me everything every fucking day of my life. Like you don’t already give me everything I need? We went through this, Sara. First and foremost, before any baby, I want _you_.”

Ava’s words, like they always do, are cutting through the haze. The panic Sara had felt ever since she’d seen that red on her underwear is receding, and the smaller it gets, the more irrational she realises it was.

But it’s only as it leaves that she can recognise that. When it was still present, it was all-consuming.

“You want me?” Sara whispers, leaning closer to Ava, needing the confirmation.

“Obviously, darling. We’ve been together for a year and a half. I’d kinda hoped you’d figured that out by now.”

“You don’t think I’m selfish?” Sara asks, her voice still low.

“No, I don’t. I think you’re the furthest possible thing from selfish. You panicked because you thought you’d hurt _me_. But I need you to know that you didn’t. That this is just a normal part of trying for a kid. Normal for straight couples, normal for us. And, if you want, we’ll keep trying. But only once you’re sure you can go at it with a better mindset. I can’t see you like this again, my love. I can’t. I hate seeing you like this.”

The thought of causing Ava pain is the worst thing she’s felt yet. She’d made a promise to herself, when they got together, that she’d never repeat anything close to what she’d made Ava feel when she’d run away, and now she’s doing it, and she hates herself, more tears rolling down her face.

“Then I’m hurting you. Fuck, Ava, I’m, I’m sorry—”

“No. You don’t need to apologise for being in pain. You _never _need to apologise for that. I’m here for you. I just… I don’t want you to be hurting anymore. Okay? That’s _all_ I care about. You don’t need to worry about me, darling,” Ava says, tucking some hair behind Sara’s ear. “You never need to worry about telling me anything. I want to know everything. I don’t want you to mask your pain for fear of hurting me.

“That’s not what relationships are. They’re not about hiding yourself and trying to pretend everything’s perfect when it’s not. They’re about supporting each other, babe. That’s what you do for me. That’s what I want to do for you. So, please, Sara, let me. Let me support you. Let me help you. Promise not to hide how you’re feeling? Please?”

Her eyes are wide, her voice more earnest than it’s ever been. Sara sniffs, swallows, wiping at her eyes. “Yeah. Okay. I won’t— I won’t hide it. I promise.”

“You promise?” Ava says, a small smile on her face. “Pinky?”

She holds out her pinky, and Sara links their fingers, leaning in as she does to kiss Ava, taking solace in the way Ava melts against her, in the way her free hand comes up to cup Sara’s cheek, her thumb stroking gently over Sara’s skin, cradling her face like she’s precious.

When Ava pulls back and speaks, there’s a tiny laugh in her voice. She runs her thumb over Sara’s lower lip, says, “You taste like salt, darling. You’ve cried too much. I’m gonna get you some water,” and then moves to pull back.

Sara grabs onto her. “No. Don’t go anywhere. Not yet.”

So Ava doesn’t, and Sara leans her head on Ava’s shoulder. “The first time we kissed, you’d been crying,” she whispers. “You tasted like salt, and I hated it. I hated seeing you falling apart like that. Every time you cried, I wanted to kiss it away. In the hospital… there were a million times I wanted to kiss you. So badly. So badly it hurt almost as much as seeing you that sad.”

“But you didn’t,” Ava says, her voice quiet, “because you’re not selfish. You didn’t want to complicate things.”

“I still did,” Sara says. “Eventually.”

“_We_ still did,” Ava corrects. “It was a joint effort. Because, you know, spoiler alert, babe, I wanted to kiss you just as much. Every second we spent together, Sara. That’s why I’m not letting anything get in between us now. Nothing. We spent so long not saying what we needed to and doing things we didn’t want to and it nearly drove us apart, and I’m never letting that happen again.

“So, you tell me what you want, and we do it. If you want to try again, if that’s what will make you feel better, then we do that. But if it’s not, if you want to stop, or wait, or… or anything. Whatever you need. Just... tell me what to do, Sara. Please. Tell me what to do.”

Sara sucks in a breath, nods, before shuffling closer, curling into Ava’s lap, her head under Ava’s chin. “I think…I mean… I know— I mean…” she sighs. “I want to try again. Definitely. But maybe… maybe not next month.”

Ava presses a kiss to the top of her head. “We can absolutely skip a month. Absolutely. I can book an appointment for September. And then when we get there, we can see how you feel, okay?”

Her thumb rubs soothing circles on Sara’s waist.

Downstairs, Sara can hear Charlotte moving around. “Okay, darling, as much as I like this, I think we need to get ready for the day, now,” Ava murmurs.

Sara closes her eyes, letting out slow breaths. “Two more minutes, baby. I need to feel you.”

“Okay, Sara. Okay. It’s okay. I got you.”

So, they take August off trying. Sara spends the whole month working on her emotions. She even goes to some fancy therapist Ava had found, spills all the feelings that had been consuming her, and, after a couple of sessions, the last one with Ava, gripping her hand tight the whole way through, she feels better.

Which is good, because it puts her in the right mindset to start again—but also gives her time to prepare for Ava’s birthday. It’s only a few days before their next session at the clinic, and Sara has more than a few ideas.

On the day, she gives Ava her _thoughtful _gifts in the morning. A photo album she’d been working on. An expensive, leather bound book on that Ava been excitedly talking about for months, but that she hadn’t been able to find a place to buy online. Some clothes they’d bought on a shopping trip together. A necklace, that Sara clasps around Ava’s neck, trailing her fingers over the smooth skin, before dropping a kiss on her shoulder, letting her hair fall back down.

But she has one more gift, a gift that requires calling up Gary, threatening him until he agrees to clear Ava’s schedule for the afternoon, and not tell her he’s done it.

When Sara arrives, at one on the dot, he looks her up and down, eyeing the trench-coat she’s wearing.

He swallows, then says, “Is this a… you know…” He twists his hands together in a way that makes Sara sure he has no idea how women have sex with each other. He lowers his voice. “Sex thing?”

“No,” Sara says, sweetly. “I’m just paying a visit to her on her birthday for no reason, and I also cleared her schedule for no reason.”

“Oh,” Gary says, looking relieved. “Cool.” As Sara pushes the door open, strides through, she hears him say, “Wait a second—” and then the door is closed, and locked. Sara pockets the key.

Ava is faced away from her. She turns around, her gaze fixed on a file. “Gary,” she says, without looking up. “Are you here to _finally _tell me why my schedule is empty?” Sara doesn’t say anything, just waits for Ava to look up. When Ava finally does, Sara raises an eyebrow, smirks. “Sara…” Ava continues, her voice sounding dry. “Why are you here?”

Sara moves across the room, slowly. “I’m here, _Madame Mayor_”—Sara watches with satisfaction as Ava swallows—“because there’s an emergency.”

“An emergency?” Ava asks, her voice rising higher. “What sort of emergency?”

“An _extremely _pressing one,” Sara says, as she reaches Ava’s desk, leaning forward on it.

“What’s, uh, what’s happened?” Ava asks, and for a second, Sara wonders if she sees real worry in Ava’s eyes, and she can’t have that, so she leans further forward, slips out of the role for a second, and brushes her finger over Ava’s left hand, where it rests on the desk.

“You know this isn’t a real emergency, right, baby? Everything’s fine. Charlotte’s fine. I’m fine. You’re fine. This is just fun. A birthday surprise. It’s all good. Promise.” Her voice is soft. Reassuring.

She doesn’t even care about breaking out of the game for a second, not if it’s what will make Ava able to enjoy this fully.

Ava lets out a tiny breath, nods, and then all the tension is gone from her body. Sara smiles, closes her eyes, and when she opens them again, she’s looking at Ava through her eyelashes, lowering her voice. She rounds the desk, trailing her fingers up Ava’s arm from her hand. “It’s a medical emergency, Madame Mayor,” she says, leaning down to kiss Ava’s neck, feeling Ava shiver underneath her.

“Medical?” Ava gasps out.

“Yes,” Sara murmurs, sweeping Ava’s hair over her left shoulder. “Someone’s incredibly ill, and we need to cure them right away.”

“Who— who’s ill?” Ava asks, and she’s _trembling_, her fingers crumpling up surely important papers on her desk.

Sara leans back down, until her mouth is level with Ava’s visible ear, and then whispers, “You.”

Her voice is so close that Ava starts a little. And then Ava’s tongue slips out from between her lips, swiping over them, and all Sara wants to do is take that perfect lower lip between her teeth and tug until Ava’s whimpering, but she restrains herself.

“Me?” Ava asks, her voice tiny.

“I’m afraid so, Madame Mayor,” Sara says, before turning around, stepping out of her heels, and boosting herself up to sit on the the desk, so that Ava is looking up at her. She swings her legs, brushing the tips of her toes against Ava’s knee. “You’re extremely ill, and there’s only one thing that can cure it.”

“What would that be?” Ava asks, clearly trying to keep her voice level, but her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are roaming all over the trench coat wrapped around Sara’s body, as if she can force Sara to take it off just by staring at it, and finally, Sara takes pity on her.

Her fingers go to the belt. She unties it, and then pulls it off her shoulders in one swift movement. “Me,” she says, letting Ava’s eyes roam around the light pink lace hugging her torso, the boning of the corset and the way it pulls her waist in just slightly, before moving down to the matching panties.

“You?” Ava asks, after a whole minute of stunned silence.

“Me,” Sara repeats. “More specifically, me eating you out. Right here. Right now. In your office.” Ava still isn’t saying anything, and it’s Sara’s turn to worry, dropping the act again. “If you— if you want, baby. This isn’t _actually_ fuck or die, like, this isn’t porn, you can say no if you’re uncomfortable—“

“No!” Ava says, and for a second Sara’s heart drops, and she’s about to scramble for the trench-coat, when Ava speaks again. “Sorry. Fuck. Fuck. Yes. Very much yes. I meant to say no to me wanting to say no. Sorry. Fuck. I want you to… do that. A lot. So much. I want you to… help me…” And then she pauses, screwing up her mouth. “What do I call you?”

Sara smiles a relieved smile. “Just Sara, baby. I’m just Sara. We’re just us.”

Ava matches Sara’s smile. “Okay. Okay. I need you to help me, Sara. Please.”

“You’re allowing me to… cure you, Madame Mayor?” Ava nods. Sara pulls the key out of her pocket, holding it up between two fingers. “We’re locked in here, Mayor. You’re too… dangerous to be around anyone else until you’ve been _cured_. You wouldn’t want to risk anyone’s life, would you?”

Ava shakes her head obediently. “No,” she breathes. “I wouldn’t.”

“You’re just too beautiful to be let loose until you’re better,” Sara murmurs. “Now. Is there anything I can do to make you more… comfortable, in this trying time?” she asks, tracing her foot up Ava’s thigh, towards the join of her legs.

Ava shifts forward, then says, “Lap. My lap. Please. I need to touch you.”

Sara complies, sliding off the desk into Ava’s lap. “Physical contact… _is _incredibly important,” she whispers, as her fingers curl around the back of Ava’s neck, pulling the two of them closer until their lips are almost touching, and then finally closing the distance, kissing Ava for the first time.

She only pulls away when Ava’s hands start sliding down further over her back, pressing up underneath the edge of the corset to rest her fingers in the dimples in the small of Sara’s back. It feels good, but she’s not there to make _herself_ feel good. At least not yet. Right now, this is about Ava, so she tears her mouth away.

Her hand moves up to Ava’s cheek. “Oh, baby doll,” she says, “you’re burning up. I don’t think you have much longer. I should get to work before it’s too late.”

There’s a tiny smirk on Ava’s face, and Sara leans in, kisses the corner of Ava’s mouth, winks at her, and then slides out of her lap, her fingers going to the button on Ava’s pants, tugging her hips forward. “Remember to be quiet, Mayor. Wouldn’t want anyone hearing, would we?

Ava shakes her head, then gasps when Sara’s mouth hits her.

Sara works into her for as long as she possibly can before it seems mean, and then she finally lets Ava toppling over the brink, taking satisfaction in the way Ava falls apart beneath her, the only sound escaping her noise being tiny whimpers, her teeth digging into her lip as if to stop herself from yelling out.

When Ava comes back to herself, when Sara has cleaned her up carefully, pulled her pants back on, and settled back in her lap, Ava looks at her wrist. “It’s been an hour. You cleared my schedule for the whole afternoon. What’s happening now?”

“What’s happening now,” Sara says, in between dropping kisses on Ava’s lips, “is that we’re going home to celebrate you being all better. Now that you’re all illness free, there’s no worry about anything being passed down to a… baby,” she finishes, moving her mouth down, nipping at Ava’s skin.

“You want to—“

“So much. So much. I want to feel you inside me, Ava.” Ava groans quietly as she feels Sara moving her hips against her. Her pupils are dilating. “Our next appointment is this week. I wasn’t kidding last time. I liked it. I liked doing that before the session. It really did make it feel more real. Even if it didn’t work out that first time.”

It’s a testament to how far she’s come that she’s able to talk about it so casually, and she can see warmth in Ava’s expression grow as she sees how easily Sara is discussing it.

“Come on, baby. Let’s go home. I need you to fuck me. I need to have my way with you before Charlotte gets home.”

Ava rolls her eyes, tracing her finger around Sara’s lips. “Only if you keep the corset on.”

“Oh,” Sara says, sliding out of Ava’s lap, wrapping the coat back around her body, and then holding her hand out to Ava. “Definitely.”

Now that Sara knows what to expect at the next session, it’s not as strange. She talks to Ava the whole time, hardly even noticing it.

When it’s done, Ava smiles at her. “You seemed less tense this time.”

Sara leans back into the headrest, closing her eyes, an easy smile on her face. “I’m all therapized now. Got my head on straight. I feel so much better about this one.”

“As in, like, you feel like this one is going to work, or…?” Ava’s face is worried.

“No. I mean. It might. Just… I feel better. Even if it doesn’t. I feel better. I’m okay keeping on trying.”

The smile returns to Ava’s face, and she leans down, kissing Sara. “That’s what I want to hear. I want you to be happy during this. That’s all I want. I only ever want you to be happy. You know that, right?”

Sara nods, content. “Yeah, Ava. I know that. I got that into my head. I’m going to be okay this time. I promise.”

And, when, two weeks later, the test comes back negative, she is.

She lets a few tears roll, but she has Ava to lean into, Ava’s hands to soothe her and remind her that it’s okay, that it’s not her fault, that they can try again, and even if her mood dips as her period approaches, by the end of the week, she’s ready to try again. Ready to try as many times as they have to.

By the third trip to the clinic, they’re joking around with Dr Spencer. The third time around, Sara hardly even notices the sensation, just keeps talking through it, not even wincing.

She’s got used to much worse things in her life. It’s not surprising she’s gotten used to this. She’s gotten used to seeing the negative result on the test, as well. She takes a couple of breaths, Ava’s hand in hers, and then she’s okay. “Just part of the process,” she whispers, and Ava nods.

The session in November is a lot drearier than the session in July had been. It’s raining as they walk into the clinic. In the waiting room, Ava’s thumb makes circles in Sara’s hand.

“You know that if you get pregnant now, you’re gonna be super pregnant like… right in the middle of summer, right?”

Sara nods. “I know. Doesn’t change my mind. Promise. I don’t want to miss a cycle.”

Ava doesn’t argue. They trust each other to say what they mean.

When they get inside, while Dr Spencer is working, she starts talking. “I’m, uh, afraid that if this doesn’t work out, I can’t see you again until January.”

Sara tries to sit up to look at her, momentarily forgetting what’s happening. Ava presses her back down.

“Why?” Ava asks, her brow crinkling.

“People want kids born in September. They book up all my slots. I can let you know if i have cancellations, but, you never know, this one might work.”

“Yeah,” Ava says, but her voice is small.

Dr Spencer notices. “Ava. Three rounds failing is nothing to be worried about. If we get a _lot_ further and nothing’s happening, we can talk about fertility medication, but I understand you two would rather not risk multiples?”

“Yeah,” Sara says, glancing at Ava. “One baby is, uh, preferable.”

“In that case, I’m perfectly happy for you two to keep going like this for at least three more cycles, if not more. There’s no need for concern, not yet.”

Ava nods, seemingly placated. When Dr Spencer is gone, it’s Sara’s turn to be the one reassuring. “It’s okay, baby. We’re gonna get there, no matter how long it takes, or how we have to do it. But, in any case… I don’t know… I’ve got… I’ve got a good feeling about this one.”

She has a good feeling about it right until she takes the test, and it comes out negative. She stares at it for a minute, as if it might change if she wills it to enough, and then sighs, leaning against Ava. “I really _did_ have a good feeling about that one.”

Ava’s hand comes up to cup Sara’s head, pressing a kiss to the top of it. “I know, darling. I know. We’ll get there. We’ll take December off, concentrate on your birthday and Christmas and our anniversary, and then we’ll get back into it in January, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Sara says, but something is sinking inside her. This has just felt so _right_ this time, for whatever reason, and seeing that sign on the test almost doesn’t feel real. It feels wrong.

Over the next couple of days, it still feels wrong. Her period doesn’t come. It doesn’t really mean anything—Sara’s periods are uneven and last month it took almost a week after the failed test to arrive.

So it doesn’t mean anything.

But it feels like it does.

It feels like it does, and so she lies awake, eyes fixed on her stomach, on where Ava’s hands rest lightly, and wonders. Wonders so much that it’s almost all she can think about. Every morning, she expects to see blood on her underwear, and every morning, she doesn’t. Instead, she sees the pregnancy tests in their drawer every time she opens it.

One morning, six days after she’d taken the test, she gives her period one more day. One more day to appear, and then she’s taking another test.

The next morning, there’s still nothing. Ava had left for work early, so Sara wakes up to an empty bed, gets Charlotte ready for school, and then wanders upstairs, settling into her chair at her desk. She attempts to work for half an hour, but her fingers drum incessantly against the desk, her mind going at a hundred miles an hour. She needs to do another test. That much is certain.

But she should also wait for Ava. They’ve taken every single one together. She should wait. She _knows_ she should wait, and she’s completely resolved to do that, stays resolved to do that until two hours into the day, when the coffee she’d downed that morning catches up with her.

In the bathroom, she stares at the drawer.

And then, on an impulse, she’s taken a test, before she even really knows she’s done it.

She sets it down with shaky hands, and then swears, because, fuck, if this feeling is right, she’s just done that without Ava.

So, she does the only thing she can think to do, which is to wash her hands, run, grab her phone, and start filming, her voice coming out in an apologetic rush. She sits down on the floor, leaning against the tub. The test stays on the counter, so she’s not tempted to look before it’s time.

“Hey, baby. So, uh, remember when I said I had a feeling about this time? Well, my period didn’t come, and I know that_ strictly_ that doesn’t mean anything, but it still hasn’t come and I may have, uh, taken a test. I was going to wait for you and then I just… kinda couldn’t. So… I’m filming. Because, apparently I’m a vlogger now? Except, this is going to have an audience of one. Well… two, cause I guess we’ll show Charlotte. And maybe other people. Fuck. Sorry. I’m rambling. I’ll shut up and wait now.”

She manages to stay silent for about twenty seconds, and then she’s back talking to the camera. Talking to Ava, even if she’s not there to respond, calms Sara down, and by the time she looks down at her watch and sees enough time has past, her heart rate has calmed slightly.

“Okay. I’m gonna look. If it doesn’t say anything then, uhh, I guess we can… laugh over this video together.”

She turns the camera around, pushes herself to her feet. For a second, she squeezes her eyes shut, and then she forces herself to open them—and sees a cross on the test.

“Fuck!” she shouts, and then her phone slips out of her hand, hitting the floor. “Shit,” she swears again. “Fuck. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.” Expletives are just falling out of her mouth while she bends to pick the phone up, because she knows exactly what a cross means. She’s been waiting for a cross for months.

A cross means they did it.

Means that there’s a real, actual baby in her stomach right now. Her heart is beating even faster than before, and she takes a few breaths before pointing the camera back at her face. “Sorry, Aves. I dropped my phone. You probably figured that out by now. Hopefully you, uh, saw the test before I dropped it, but, if not,” she switches cameras again, holding the test up with trembling hands, “congratulations, baby. You’re gonna be a mom again.”

She turns it back to herself for the final time. “Obviously I’m gonna tell you before I show you this. But I just… I wanted to record this. So you’d be able to see. Sorry for not waiting. I love you so much, baby. You and Charlotte and this baby… you’re my world.” She can feel tears welling up, so she figures this is a good place to stop. “Okay. I’m gonna stop filming now, and I’m gonna call you. I love you. Bye.”

She ends the video, sits back down on the floor, staring at the test. It still has that cross. Her fingers creep underneath her shirt, settling on her stomach, her palm flat against her belly. “Hi, peanut,” she whispers. “I’m your mom. I’m gonna tell your other mom right now, okay?”

The baby, little more than a bundle of cells at this point, obviously isn’t going to respond, but talking to it feels nice. She’d been so withdrawn into herself with Charlotte, so terrified, at least for the first couple of months, that she’d hardly spoken to her. She’s going to do that differently this time around.

Her hand is still shaking, though, and she can’t type Ava’s number in, so she resorts to getting Siri to call for her. When Ava picks up, her voice is worried. “Sara? Are you okay? Did something happen? Is Charlotte okay?”

Sara doesn’t usually call during the day, so the reaction is warranted. “No, baby, everything’s fine. But, uh, I need you to come home. Right now.”

“Sara! You’re supposed to expect me to believe that everything’s fine after you said _that_? It’s the middle of the day! I have meetings!”

Sara sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I know, baby, but I promise. Everything’s fine. I just need you to come home. Please.”

“Sara… I can’t. I have things to do. People who need to see me.”

“I didn’t want to do this,” Sara says, “but I’m using my come-home-right-now card.” They both have one. Sara’s out of the house less, but Ava still has one, if she ever needed Sara home for something she couldn’t explain. Sara hopes Ava gets how serious this is.

“It’s _that_ important?” Ava asks, and Sara can hear how her tone has changed.

“Yes. I can’t do this over the phone.”

“You make it sound like you’re about to break up with me.” Sara can almost see Ava biting her lip, her face crinkling in worry.

“I’m not about to break up with you, you idiot. You’re the fucking love of my life. I love you. I just need you home, okay?”

Ava sighs. “Can it wait an hour? I have a meeting I really can’t miss or reschedule. One hour. Is that okay?”

Sara smiles. “Yeah, that’s okay, baby. I love you”

“Okay. I’ll see you in an hour. I love you, too.”

An hour later, Sara is on the couch, nervously drumming her fingers against her legs. When she hears Ava coming down the path, she jumps up, her heart in her mouth. She’s in front of the door when Ava opens it, and Ava starts a little. “Holy shit. I wasn’t expecting you to be right there. Hi, darling, are you—”

She stops talking when Sara shoves the pregnancy test in her face. Ava blinks, peers at it. Over the course of a few seconds, her face changes, from shock, to curiosity, to something like confusion mixed in with hope.

“Is that—”

“Yes.”

“You’re pregnant?” Ava whispers. Her bag falls out of her hands, and then her hands are coming up to cup Sara’s face.

“Yeah.” Sara nods. “I am.”

One second, Ava’s eyes are searching all over Sara’s face, and then the widest smile Sara has ever seen breaks on her face, at the same time that tears well up in Ava’s eyes. “You’re sure?”

Sara pulls the other three tests she’d taken out from behind her back. “I drank like a gallon of water this past hour. I’ve peed _so_ much. They’re all positive.”

Ava laughs a hiccupy laugh, tears still streaming down her face. “What about the other test?”

Shrugging, Sara says, “False negative, I guess. Maybe I did it too early or something. I don’t know. But… it was wrong. I was right to have a good feeling about this round.”

Ava sniffs, reaching out to tuck some hair behind Sara’s ear. “Yeah, my love, I guess you were.” She pauses. “Fuck, Sara. We did it. You did it. I’m so proud of you.”

It’s that that finally rams it home for Sara, in a way that it hadn’t really been able to sink in before. She needed Ava here, talking to her, to finally make it real. And when it sinks in, tears finally spring to her eyes as well. “I did it,” she whispers, and then Ava’s lips are crashing against hers, kissing her with so much passion, so much love, that Sara feels her knees going a little weak.

Ava pushes her backwards, against the door to the living room, one hand staying on her face, one sliding down to her stomach, pressing against it. “Fuck, Sara,” she mumbles against her mouth. “I love you so much.”

“Love you too,” Sara murmurs, reaching down to open the door, letting Ava walk her into the living room, their lips still joined.

Despite the couches being right there, Ava keeps walking them until they hit the table, and then her hands are under Sara’s thighs, boosting her up. With the extra height, their mouths are finally level, and it’s easier to wrap her arms around Ava’s neck at the same time she wraps her legs around Ava’s hips, pulling her close, pressing every part of their bodies together.

When Ava finally dissolves the kiss, her face is shiny from tears, and there’s mascara tracks on her cheeks. Her eyes are red rimmed and puffy. Her lips are swollen from the kiss. Her perfectly styled hair has been ruined by Sara’s fingers tangling in it.

She’s never looked more perfect to Sara in her _life_.

She lasts thirty seconds staring at Ava before pulling her back in, needing to feel her lips again, needing to taste her and feel her and smell her, needing to drown in her touch, to fall in deep and trust that Ava will catch her.

With her legs still around Ava’s thighs, and Ava’s arms wrapped tight around her, she is both holding Ava in place and being held. They’re one person, joined together by this new life blossoming deep inside her.

When Ava finally breaks away again, it’s to press a kiss to Sara’s neck, to work further downwards, to press Sara backwards onto the table, and pull open her shirt, kissing down her chest, down her stomach, right to the line of her shorts, slung low on her hips. Ava lays light kisses there, right over where the baby is growing, then glances up at her, and the look on her face kills Sara.

It’s something new. She’s never doubted that Ava loves her. She’d never thought Ava would love her more _just _because they got pregnant, or that she’d love her less if hadn’t worked out. But she’d be lying if she didn’t say that Ava looked a little more in love, if that was even possible

There’s awe in her eyes, and love, and pride, and a million emotions jumbled onto one face, and fresh tears spring out of her eyes. She pushes herself upwards, grabs for Ava. “Baby. Kiss me again. Please. I need you to kiss me. And like, as much as I would love to have sex right here, we eat on this table, so I think that’s a no.” Ava pulls her the rest of the way, kisses her, and then lifts her off the table. “God,” Sara whispers. “I love it when you do this. So much.”

Ava starts walking. “Gonna keep doing it as long as I can, babe,” she murmurs. “You’re mine. I like showing it.”

Sara’s eyes close as she leans her forehead on Ava’s shoulder.

When she opens them, though, they’re not walking towards the stairs, they’re walking into Ava’s office. A second later, Ava deposits her down on the couch in there. Sara raises an eyebrow, her arms still loosely wrapped around Ava’s neck. “In here?”

Ava shrugs. At the same time, her fingers slide up the fabric of Sara’s shirt, until she can pull it off her shoulders. “I didn’t want to let go of you, my love. We can go upstairs if you want, but… I didn’t want to let go of you. Not even for a second. Did I— did I make the wrong choice?” she asks, worrying at her lip, and Sara kisses the look off of her face, hands in her hair, teeth tugging lightly at her lip.

“No, baby, you didn’t. I love it. And, you know—we’ve never had sex in here,” she says.

“I think I can change that,” Ava says, her voice low and thick and dripping with desire.

Sara doesn’t know why Ava has such a large couch in her office, but she’s grateful for it as she lays back, as Ava slides down her body, pulling Sara’s shorts and panties down, kissing Sara’s leg, all the way down to her ankles, and then back up again on the other leg, her kisses getting shorter and more teasing.

Sara’s eyes close, and she just waits for the touch she knows is coming, the touch Ava would never deny her without checking that was what she wanted first, and then, after a few seconds of waiting, of Ava lavishing kisses on the inside of Sara’s thigh, her tongue presses gently against Sara, applying broad pressure.

She sinks into it, forgetting everything but Ava, the whole world getting hazy. She only becomes more alert when Ava’s tongue slips inside her, and then she’s used to that sensation as well, and she floats away, riding high on all the emotions, not thinking of anything—until Ava reaches a hand up, and, instead of going for Sara’s hand like Sara is expecting, she rests it on Sara’s stomach, just above her pantyline. Sara gasps, tears welling up immediately, _again_, and she wonders if this is going to be her whole pregnancy, just crying at every loving touch Ava bestows on her and the baby. She closes her eyes, and when she speaks, her voice is a hoarse whisper. “Baby… I love you so much.”

Ava’s fingers on her stomach flutter, and then there’s gentle fingers on her centre as well, and Ava’s mouth is gone. Sara lets out a moan at the loss, forgetting to be embarrassed, or maybe just not caring. “Baby,” she says again, and it’s more of a whimper. “Your mouth.”

“Shh. It’s okay. I’ll start again in a second,” Ava kisses her thighs again. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay. You can cry, darling. I just need you to look at me, okay?”

Sara nods, and when Ava ducks down again, she keeps her eyes open, holds Avas gaze.

Tears are streaming down her face, and every part of her feels so _good_, Ava’s tongue is perfect and everything is perfect and then Sara brings her hand down on Ava’s, where it’s still pressed against her belly, and she comes with a sob, pleasure rushing through her.

“Fuck,” she breathes. “Fuck, Ava. God.” Ava leans up, presses a kiss to the skin where her hand has been. Sara is still shivering, her body shaking, and it only stops when Ava pulls Sara’s panties and shorts back up, then lies back, pulling Sara down on top of her, gathering her up in her arms.

“Good?” she murmurs, as Sara tucks her head under Ava’s chin.

“So good,” Sara says, looking up at Ava. As she does, one of Ava’s hands raises up, and she wipes at the tears with her thumb. The other hand is still tight around Sara, resting on her stomach.

“Good tears?”

“You know they are, Sharpe.”

“Just wanted to check,” Ava says, and Sara smiles, more than content.

“And that’s why I love you,” Sara says. “You’re always checking. You’re so… you’re so _thoughtful._” And then, despite the fact that it’s the middle of the day, Sara’s suddenly exhausted. “And… comfy,” she whispers. “Do you mind if I just… sleep a second here?” she says, closing her eyes.

“No, darling,” Ava says, brushing her hand through Sara’s hair. “That’s okay.”

“You don’t mind that I didn’t… reciprocate?” Sara mumbles against Ava’s skin, and she absentmindedly begins to move her fingers lower, heading vaguely for the join of Ava’s legs.

Ava just laughs lightly, pulling Sara’s hand away with two fingers around her wrist, settling it on her chest. “No, Sara, you’re fine, I promise,” she says, pressing a kiss to Sara’s forehead.

“Pinky?” Sara asks.

Ava links their fingers. “Pinky. Sleep, Sara. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“Mmm,” Sara hums. “You better be,” she finishes, cuddling in closer, moulding every line of her body to Ava’s.

“Always, my love.”

As sleep takes her, there’s a smile on her face when she slips into darkness.

Sara wakes up an hour later, and finds Ava with earbuds in her ear, her eyes closed. She pokes Ava, and her eyes snap open. She pulls the earbuds out, a fond smile stretching over her face. “Hey. Sleep well?”

“Mmhmm,” Sara nods. “Whatchu doing?”

Ava holds up her phone. “Podcast. I’ve had too much coffee to sleep, but I had this in my pocket, and I thought I could use the time productively.”

“Productively?” Sara raises an eyebrow.

“It’s a podcast about pregnancy. More specifically, for people whose partners are pregnant. It’s more geared towards, you know, men, but 99% of the advice is still applicable.”

At that, the grin on Sara’s face grows. She sits up, lets Ava maneuver herself so she’s sitting up as well, and then leans into Ava’s shoulder. “You’re such a nerd.”

“I like to be _prepared_, Sara,” Ava protests, her voice small, a little indignant, yet still soft and dripping with fondness.

“You’re such a nerd,” Sara repeats, before bringing a hand up to Ava’s cheek, pulling her close enough to kiss, her grip strong on Ava’s face. When she pulls away, there’s a look on Ava’s face of such utter contentment that Sara wishes she had a camera, wishes she could capture this moment in a photo, but then she realises that there’s no way a camera would be able to recreate it perfectly, no way to properly convey how beautiful Ava looks in this moment, so she just settles for burning the image into her memories.

“You’re _my_ nerd. You’re all mine. Forever and ever and then after that. You’re so… you’re so fucking perfect, Ava. I… I couldn’t ask for anyone better to have a kid with. Even… even without a podcast or a single book or _anything_ I already know you’re going to be the best possible mother ever to this kid, because you already are. You raised the best fucking kid in the world, and you’re going to raise this one to be joint top. I know it, Ava. There’s no-one else in this whole world that I trust more than you to do this right.”

And then it’s Ava’s turn to cry, but, after a moment, her expression becomes slightly worried, the tears obviously not just happy ones. When she speaks, her voice is watery. “You know I’m not… actually perfect, right? I make mistakes and sometimes I made the wrong call with Charlotte and I don’t want you thinking I’m going to make the right call every time because that’s impossible, and—”

Sara cuts her off. “No. No. Ava. Sorry. No, of course not. I don’t mean you’re… perfect like you never get things wrong. Just that... I trust you and I know you’re always trying to do the right thing, and I know you’ll always try to be the best you can be. And I know that sounds like a cheesy motivation life coach quote, but it’s you. You _try_, Ava, and that’s all I ask of you.”

Ava smiles. “I think I can do that,” she says, and then Sara picks up her phone, asking about the podcast, and Ava talks through what she’s learnt, her voice eager, her hands going everywhere with gesticulations, and Sara can see how enthused she is, how excited she is to do this again. It seems like she’s finally letting it show how much she wants this, now that they’re pregnant, and Sara couldn’t be happier.

A little while later, she remembers the video, and shows it to Ava, burying her face in her shoulder in embarrassment when it gets to the bit where she drops it, and Ava just laughs.

“You’re not mad I didn’t wait for you?” Sara asks, when it’s finished.

“What?” Ava asks, as if the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind. “Mad? How could I be _mad _at you right now? We just got everything we’ve been wanting for over a _year_, Sara.”

“I know, but we did all the other tests together.”

Ava just looks at Sara, smiles, her fingers lingering on Sara’s cheek. “I don’t care, babe, I promise. It’s not the test that matters. I promise.” She finds Sara’s hand, interlinking their fingers. “I love you. I wouldn’t have wanted you to wait, torturing yourself all day. You did the right thing, darling.”

“Okay,” Sara says, reassured, and they fall back into easy discussion.

They stay like that, curled up in Ava’s office under the blanket until Charlotte gets home. When they hear the door close, Sara suddenly realises that she’s still only in underwear, and pulls her shorts and shirt back on hastily. Ava moves into the living room, pulling Charlotte in there, and, thirty seconds later, Sara appears in the doorway.

Charlotte looks up. “How come Mom’s at home? She said you’d tell me. Is something happening?”

Sara blinks. Ava is standing near the door, and Sara briefly pulls her close. “You want me to tell her?”

Ava smiles. “Yeah, babe. It’s yours to tell.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Charlotte asks, crossing her arms. “I _can_ hear you, you know. You always said it was rude to whisper, _Mom_.”

Ava turns back to Charlotte, an apologetic smile on her face. “Sorry, honey. Sara?”

Sara crosses the room, sits down next to Charlotte. She has no idea how she’s supposed to do this, but when she looks at Ava for help, she just smiles, encouragingly, and Sara realises that, really, there’s no _wrong_ way to do this.

She thinks for a second. “You remember when we went to the beach that first summer, and you asked me about my scars?” Charlotte nods, and then Sara pulls her shirt up a little. “Does it look any different?”

Charlotte screws up her mouth, her eyebrows crinkling skeptically. “No… should it?”

“Well. No… but it’s going to.”

For a second, Charlotte looks confused, and then it’s like Sara can _see_ her realising. “Wait. You’re pregnant? Like, you took a test and you’re actually for real pregnant?”

Her hand reaches out, almost as if she’s not even thinking, to rest on Sara’s stomach. “Yeah, baby,” Sara says, as Ava moves to sit next to her, to wrap her arm around Sara’s waist. “Obviously, they’re tiny at the moment. Miniscule, you definitely can’t feel them. But… hopefully, if everything goes well, it won’t be _that_ long before you can. And then once that happens, we can start telling people. But it’s important we wait until then, yeah, baby?”

“You understand that, right, Lottie?” Ava asks, her tone gentle. “This is really exciting, but if anything were to go wrong, it would make things harder if people knew. We’re trusting you with this because we love you and want you to know. We don’t want you left out, because you’re the most important part of this family, and we never want it to feel like we’re hiding anything. But you need to keep quiet just a little bit longer, yeah?”

Charlotte nods, not looking up. Her hand is still on Sara’s stomach, her head tilted, her mouth slightly open, as if she’s stuck, frozen, in that moment of realisation. And then she finally looks up, and a smile breaks on her face. “I’m gonna have a sibling?” She pauses, swallowing. “Even… even after you said you were doing it, it took so long, and I kinda gave up on it. And now… now it’s actually happening and…” she looks at Ava. “I never thought we’d have this, Mom. Any of this. Not a Sara or grandparents we like or an _aunt _or a sibling and now we have everything at once and it’s so much and—“

And then she bursts into tears, falling against Sara’s shoulder. Sara wraps her arm around Charlotte, looking at Ava, her eyes wide. “Is she happy crying?” she mouths.

“I think so,” Ava mouths back, then speaks out loud. “It’s okay, baby. We get it. It’s a lot for all of us. It’s a lot. We’re here for you, whenever. Whenever you want to talk.”

Charlotte pulls back, her face tear-stained. She wipes at her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m _happy_ I promise. I'm _so _happy. I just… It _is _a lot and I guess more is going to change and I _want _that I want it so much but… I guess I’m still a little scared.”

“Oh, honey,” Sara says, pulling her back close, kissing the top of her head. “That’s okay. It’s okay to be scared. We’re _all_ a little scared, but it’s like Mom said. We’re here for you, no matter what. And _that_ is never going to change, no matter what happens, you hear me?” Charlotte nods. “Charlotte Anne Sharpe,” Sara says, and Charlotte’s eyes snap up. “I need to hear you say it. We need to know that you understand this. That we’re _so _excited for this baby, but that we love you, and are always, _always _going to love you, understand?”

“Yeah. I understand,” Charlotte says. “I know. I love you guys too.” She looks down. “And the baby. I already love it so much.” She looks close to tears again. “I’m gonna love it so much. I’m never gonna let anything hurt you,” she continues, her fingers going back to Sara’s stomach, and then she looks up at Sara. “Can we give it a name? I don’t want to call it ‘it’. And I think baby is out of the question, since you,” she says, pointing at Sara, “already use it for 100% of your family members.”

“What,” Sara says, grinning. “ You’re saying I can’t continue the trend?”

“No!” Charlotte says, her tone indignant. “It needs a different name.”

The smile still on her face, Sara gives in. “I’m just kidding. I kinda… already named it?” She looks at Ava, slightly apprehensive. “Is that okay?”

“Sara,” Ava says, her voice gentle. “You’re the one carrying them. You can call them whatever you want. Like, I’d hope I get _some_ input on what we call them once they’re born, but…”

Sara rolls her eyes, hitting Ava lightly on the arm. “No, I was planning on doing that myself. They’re going to be Sara Jr, girl _or_ boy.”

“Oh, well, in that case,” Ava says, the corners of her mouth quirking up.

Sara laughs, looks down at her stomach. “After I took the test, I don’t know… peanut just kinda… came to me. It felt right.”

“Peanut is cute,” Ava says, a small smile on her face.

And then Charlotte speaks, looking at her phone. “Can I call it jellybean? Can I have a name as well? I just searched cute names for babies and I want to call it jellybean.”

“That’s not very healthy,” Ava says, and then Sara hits her again, and she comes to her senses. “Sorry. Not an actual jellybean. Not actually unhealthy. Yeah, baby. You can call it jellybean if you want. I think we’ll stick with peanut, but… I like that. You’ll have a different relationship with them. It’s maybe a nice idea for you to call them by a different name.”

Charlotte smiles contentedly. “I’m gonna love you so much, jellybean,” she whispers. “I’m gonna teach you so many things and I’m going to be the best big sister ever, I promise.”

Sara hugs Charlotte closer. “Yeah you are, baby. I know you will be. You’re going to be amazing.”

And then Ava is getting up, moving to sit next to Charlotte, so that she’s in between them. Sara had been the focus, but now, it’s back where it should be. On the child they have right now, on the child they can be sure of, the one that, will always be their first priority, until this baby comes, and that slot is shared.

“You’re going to be such a wonderful big sister,” Ava says, her voice thick, as she looks at her daughter. Sara has always been in awe of how much love there always is on her face when she’s looking at Charlotte, or talking about her or even _thinking_ about her, and it’s no different right now. It’s practically radiating out of her.

“I’m so proud of you, baby. I know things have been weird these past couple of years, that things have been hard and strange and things keep changing, but you’ve been so brave, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you. _We’re_ so proud of you, and we’re always going to be. We love you _so_ much. Unconditionally. Forever, no matter what happens. You understand?”

Charlotte nods, pulling them closer. “I love you too, Moms,” she says, and Sara’s heart skips a beat, because, despite Charlotte having been okay with them being referred to as her moms for a while now, she’d never said it out loud. It wasn’t her calling Sara Mom, not quite yet, but that was okay.

For now, she could revel in this, with the knowledge that, one day, at some point, she would earn back the name she had signed away all rights to almost thirteen years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> art by the wonderful amazingly talented sapphoodles - you can find her on twitter @sapphoodles and tumblr @ sapphoodles.tumblr.com
> 
> next week is a CHRISTMAS chapter :)
> 
> as always, @lucy_shanners on twitter and directoravasharpe.tumblr.com on tumblr


	5. Chapter 5

The first month is rough. Morning sickness hits Sara like a truck, just before Thanksgiving, and they have a tiny quiet one, just the three of them. After that, it’s rare morning that she doesn’t find herself on the floor in the bathroom, Ava rubbing circles on her back, wiping at her mouth, always there with water and the numerous prenatal vitamins that Sara is taking, that Ava had returned from work the day after they found out laden down with.

Some, Sara had already been taking, but now there’s a whole line of them, in every colour of the rainbow.

“See,” she says, arranging them on the counter, leaning heavily on it, trying to figure out if the sickness is gone yet. “Even our pills are gay.”

Ava just laughs, kissing Sara’s forehead. The next day, she’s laid them out in the order of the bi flag, and Sara smiles fondly at the picture, before downing them. There’s still a while before they need to see a doctor, so Sara focuses on staying healthy.

But then, a few weeks in, Sara sits down to work one day, and realised something.

“Ava,” she calls, and Ava comes in, pins in her mouth as she does her hair.

“Yeah, babe?”

“Should I keep working through the pregnancy? What about after? I don’t want… I don’t want them to have to be in daycare all the time, not if they don’t have to be.”

Ava stops what she’s doing. “This seems like too big of a conversation for right now. Tonight?” she says, crossing the room to press a kiss to Sara’s temple, her hand resting lightly on Sara’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Sara agrees. “Tonight is good.”

Sara just about manages to put it out of her mind for the rest of the day, the knowledge that they’ll figure out _something _helping her.

But by dinner she’s restless, and she knows Ava can see it, because she sends Charlotte upstairs a little earlier than she might have on another day, and pulls Sara over to the couch, wrapping her up in her arms.

“What do _you _want to do?” Ava asks. “Let’s go through that, first.”

Sara thinks. “I want to keep working doing what I’m doing as long as I can. I like it and I’m good at it, but it’s also dangerous. So… I think I should stick to the research side of things. Loads of bounty hunters hate that bit. I’ll keep my license, just for now, in case I need to do a case in an emergency, but, other than that, I’ll stay here.”

Ava’s fingers finds Sara’s chin. “You’re okay doing that?”

Sara nods. “Yeah. I like what I do, but I already love the peanut more than I could ever love that job. If anything happened to them… I’d never forgive myself.”

“Okay,” Ava says, slowly. “What about after they’re born?”

“I think… I think I’ll want to quit, then. Get my license removed. I hate that I’m in Star City so much of the time. I want to be here. Where my family is. I’ll… I’ll take some time off, I think, to raise them, and then… I don’t…” her voice gets quieter. “I was thinking that… maybe… there might be some sort of job for me with the Sheriff? Not full time. Just some of it. I don’t think I’m ready to leave work yet. Maybe not even ever. Is that okay? That I might not ever want to be a full time mom?”

“Oh, darling,” Ava says, her voice gentle. “Of course. I’m not asking you to give everything up. I’d never do that. You’re already sacrificing so much and—“

“No,” Sara says. “Winding down and taking time off. That’s not… I’m not sacrificing anything. I wouldn’t even hesitate to do that. It’s not a question. But…”

“But you just don’t want to leave completely. That’s okay. I get it,” Ava says.

Sara smiles, moving forward so she can kiss Ava. Ava smiles as well, and Sara can feel it against her lips.

And then Ava pulls away, looks down. “Since we're… having big discussions… I was wondering how you might feel about… having my parents here on Christmas?”

Sara’s mouth falls open. “Your parents? You mean the ones who talked shit about Charlotte because she wasn’t your biological kid? The ones who have basically never acknowledged that you’re a lesbian? The ones who have never even sent you anything more for your birthday than a _postcard? Those _parents?”

Ava grimaces. “Yeah. Um. Those ones.”

“_Why_, baby? You know you don’t owe them shit, right? You know that if they don’t love you how they should as parents that they do _not _deserve you. You’re so fucking amazing, Ava, and you turned out amazing without them and you do not have to see them if you don’t want to.”

“No,” Ava says, her fingers twisting in her lap. “I know. I know I don’t owe them anything. It’s just… you’ve never met them and I want you to. I want them to see how wonderful you are, and I also think that.. actually _seeing _me happy with a woman might force them to come to terms with it a bit.

“But also… they haven’t seen Charlotte in years and she’s their _grandchild _and they’re going to have another soon and I just… I want them to at least be able to know the baby a little bit, you know? I want that. But… it’s your birthday, as well. If you don’t want them there, I’m not going to force it. We could do Easter, or Charlotte’s birthday or my birthday or—“

“Shh,” Sara says. “Calm, baby. Look. Would I prefer to never see the people who made you feel like you're not the best, most amazing person on this entire _planet_? Maybe. But if you want to see them. If it’s important to you that I meet them and know them and that Charlotte sees them and that they have a chance to know the peanut, then that’s what I want. I just want you to be happy, Aves, and if you think this will make you happy, then we can _definitely _give it a try. And I will be on my best behaviour, and will only say anything if they start it.”

“Really?” Ava asks. “You’d do that?”

“Of course. I’d do anything for you, Ava. Anything.”

“Oh,” Ava says, smiling. “Right. Okay. Good. Then I’ll… call them, I guess.”

“And I’ll start preparing to meet the famous Karen and Paul,” Sara says, grimacing. “I’m guessing that when I meet them I shouldn’t tell them about my tramp stamp that says ‘SLUT’, huh?”

Ava looks at her reproachfully, raising an eyebrow. “Sara. You don’t have a tramp stamp.”

“Yeah, but _they _don’t know that.”

“Sara!”

“Okay. I won’t scandalise them. But I am reserving my right to wear a sleeveless shirt so they can see that if they mess with you, my biceps and I will be there to defend your honor. Also I’m going to carve the ham. I bet I’m a million times better than your dad with a knife.”

At that, Ava laughs, burying her face in Sara’s hair. “Yeah, okay. You can do that. Actually, I can’t wait to see my dad’s face when that happens. Maybe I should get Charlotte to film it.”

Sara smiles, pulling Ava close against her. “That, baby, is an excellent idea.”

After that, Ava calls them, and, after a tense conversation that has Sara wishing she could slam the phone down so she could wipe the worried frown off her face with a kiss, they agree to come stay for Christmas.

Ava sits down, slightly stunned. “That’s the first time I’ve talked to them in a year.”

Sara sits down next to her, a soothing hand in the small of her back. “And you did so good, baby. I’m proud of you. I’m gonna make sure this goes well, okay?”

She’s determined that it does, so, when she’s not feeling like death, she spends time trying to read up on things that Ava says they’re into. If there’s anything she knows, it’s how to be charming, even when she dislikes someone. That’s why she’s so good at bounty hunting. No-one expects the small blonde who’s flirting with them to be the person they should be running from.

By the time Christmas rolls around, she knows more about golf and knitting than she’d ever wanted to, but it doesn’t matter, because it’s for Ava, and she hadn’t been lying—she’d do anything for Ava.

When Ava gets a message saying that they’re close, Sara has hidden all of her most scandalous pieces of clothing, has hidden deep away anything that might suggest that they have sex, because, apparently, according to Ava, her mother likes snooping around in drawers, and is dressed in an extremely appropriate turtleneck that doesn’t show any cleavage or stomach, but that _does_ show off her arms, which she intends to spend the whole evening crossing.

And then there’s a knock on the door, and Ava swallows, her forehead crinkling. Sara drops a quick kiss on her lips, holding her face in her hands. “It’s okay. I’ve got you, okay? Nothing bad is going to happen.”

Ava nods. “Yep. You’re right. It’ll be fine.”

They open the door, and two relatively normal looking people are standing on the doorstep. They don’t _look_ evil, but Sara knows how much pain they’ve caused Ava. But she also doesn’t want to rock the boat, had promised not to do anything unless they started it, so she just plasters a smile on her face, and, very obviously, wraps a possessive arm around Ava’s waist.

There’s an apprehensive smile on Ava’s face. “Mom. Dad. Hi. Come in.” They move into the entryway, and Sara is courteous, taking their coats, still smiling. And then they’re all standing slightly awkwardly together. Ava is the first to speak. “This is my girlfriend, Sara Lance.”

They both turn to look at her, and Sara can feel herself being examined.

“Sara. It’s nice to meet you,” Karen says, and then she’s reaching in for a hug, and it’s slightly awkward, but it seems at least like she’s trying.

Paul seems slightly less enthusiastic, but he shakes her hand, and Sara enjoys being a little firmer than she might usually be with her grip, watches as he tilts his head, as if re-examining his first impression of her, re-evaluating from what he’d probably assumed when he’d seen the small, blonde woman at his daughter’s side.

They move into the living room. Sara stays back, takes their suitcases upstairs. When she gets back downstairs, they’ve sat down. Ava has sat down in the middle of one of the couches, very obviously leaving a space for Sara, and she slips into it.

“Where were you, Sara?” Paul asks.

Sara smiles. “Did the suitcases. You’re the second room on the left.”

“They weren’t too heavy?” he asks.

She looks briefly down at her nails. “Nope,” she says, before flashing a dazzling smile at him. “I work out,” she says, conspicuously crossing her arms.

“Sara’s very healthy, aren’t you?” Ava says, and it’s mostly true. “No smoking, no drugs. Alcohol usually, but not at the moment, because—” and then she slams her mouth shut, as if just realising what she’s said.

They were going to wait slightly longer to tell her parents, but it looks like they’re telling them now.

“Not right now?” Karen asks, tilting her head. “Why?”

“I’m pregnant,” Sara says, ripping off the bandaid. “We’re having another kid.”

Surprised sounds come from both of them, but they both actually look happy. “You are? How far along are you?”

“Five weeks,” Sara says.

For a few minutes, they’re happily discussing the baby, and then Karen looks up, a tight smile on her face and says, “But you decided… not to get married first?”

Beside her, Ava lets out a sigh, rolling her eyes. “Mom. We already have one kid out of wedlock. Sara literally had her when she was eighteen. I’m not sure we can get much more scandalous than that. Besides, it’s not like we even conceived the baby with—” she mutters, before Sara jabs her, sure that now _isn’t _the time to make her parents start thinking about their sex life.

“Eighteen?” Karen asks, miraculously not having heard what Ava had started saying, but the relief Sara feels at her having missed that disappears when she registers what Karen asked. “That would make Sara…”

“You know how old your granddaughter is, right, mom?” Ava asks, her jaw tight, and, hidden between their legs, her hand is gripping tight onto Sara’s.

“Yes. Of course I do. She turned twelve this year. So Sara’s… thirty? Is that not a bit… young for you, dear?”

“You married dad when you were eighteen and he was twenty-six, so don’t get on your high horse, Mom. We’re both grown adults.”

“Okay!” Sara says, jumping up, feeling the tension multiplying. “I’m going to go get that granddaughter. I’m sure she’s _super excited_ to see you guys.” As she leaves, she mouths a quick, “I’m sorry,” to Ava for leaving her alone, but knowing that having Charlotte as a buffer will mean less unpleasantness is likely. “I’ll just be a second.”

Upstairs, Charlotte is on her phone.

“Baby?”

Charlotte looks up.

“Your grandparents are here.”

Charlotte sighs. “I heard. Are they already being rude?” Sara winces. “So, that’s a yes?” Charlotte asks.

“A little. Are you okay to come down, baby? Ava’s pretty sure that they do actually like you, no matter if they were… unsure about you once, and this is really important for her, and if you’re not there as a buffer, I’m worried it’s going to descend into chaos. Obviously we’re not going to force you, and I understand if you don’t want to see them, but—”

“No, it’s okay,” Charlotte says, pushing herself up off her bed. She digs around in her dresser, pulls out a sweater. “They sent me this for my birthday. Let’s pretend I wear this all the time.”

Sara smiles, pulling Charlotte into a hug when she reaches the door. “Thanks, baby. It means a lot to your mom.”

“I know. I hope I help.”

As it turns out, she does. Despite their initial reservations about Ava adopting her, they do seem to genuinely like Charlotte, and she’s perfect all evening, keeping them distracted while Ava cooks, intermittently downing glasses of wine (a few too many, in fact, and at some point, Sara takes the bottle away, forces Ava to eat a bread roll before she goes back into the living room.)

Once they’re eating, though, the rest of the evening goes smoothly, and, when her parents are safely up in their room, Ava collapses against Sara. “Was that terrible? Do you think they hate me?”

“No, baby,” Sara says, running her hands through Ava’s hair, before moving to lightly massage her scalp, knowing she’s hit the mark when Ava’s eyes flutter closed. “I actually think you were right. I think having me here might make them more amenable to accepting, as your mother referred to it, your ‘unconventional lifestyle.’”

“God,” Ava groans, burying her face further into Sara’s shoulder. “Who even _says_ that anymore?”

“Seventy year olds from Wisconsin?” Sara suggests. “It’s okay. I think just seeing that we’re you know, a normal family, if with a slightly abnormal origin story, helped them. I honestly do.”

“You think so?” Ava’s eyes are wide.

“Yeah, baby. I do.”

“Even though she didn’t understand what bisexuality was, and asked if it meant you were going to leave me for a man?” Ava asks.

“Even then,” Sara says. “I think they mostly approved of me. Your dad was _very _impressed with my golf stats, and your mom gave me a scarf.”

She pulls it out, and Ava glances down at it, before standing up suddenly, grabbing Sara’s hand and pulling her upstairs, opening their door before pressing Sara up against it, kissing her. She tugs the scarf out of Sara’s hand, locks the door.

When she pulls back, she’s a little out of breath. “I want to do something that would give them both heart attacks if they knew,” Ava says, a tiny smirk on her face. “Obviously we’re not going to tell them, but… we’ll know.”

“What?” Sara asks, intrigued, heat rising in her belly. Ava doesn’t say anything at first, just steps forward, pulls Sara’s shirt over her head. Ava turns around, gesturing to the zip on the back of her dress, and Sara pulls it down, letting the fabric pool. Sara doesn’t miss the way that the dress goes on the floor, but the scarf, when Ava drops it, goes on the bed.

Something inside of her stirs, stirs even more when Ava drops to her knees, kisses Sara’s stomach. It’ll still be a while before she shows, but that hasn’t stopped Ava lavishing kisses there any time she can. She pulls Sara’s pants down, waits as Sara steps out of them, then looks up at her.

“What do you want to do, baby?” Sara whispers, her fingers threading through Ava’s hair, tilting her head gently back so she can see her eyes. “Tell me. Help me make you feel good,” she says, because she might be feeling heat rising in her stomach, but she doesn’t care about that, not when it’s so obvious Ava needs something. “Tell me, please.”

Ava sighs, and Sara feels it on her skin, warm breath bringing goosebumps to the surface. “I need to… I need to give up control. I need to let go. I’ve been so tense all day, terrified I’m going to do the wrong thing or say the wrong thing, and I... I need to let go. I need to not have to make any choices for a little while.”

Sara tugs on Ava’s hair, just lightly, and Ava gets the message, pushing up until she’s eye level with Sara again. “How do you want to do that, Ava?”

Ava glances behind her, at the scarf. “I want you to use that.”

That had been what Sara had been assuming, but she still gasps quietly. “Ava _Sharpe_. Your _mom’s_ scarf?”

Ava shrugs. “I told you I wanted to do something that would give them a heart attack.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah… nothing… scary. Just… my wrists. Just tight enough that I can’t get out. I don’t want it to… hurt.”

Sara’s fingers go immediately to Ava’s face. “No. Of course not. Of course not. I can do that. Do you have a safe word?”

“Sara, we’re just having normal sex with _one _scarf. I don’t think we need that, unless you were planning on doing something different?”

“No, of course not, baby. I wouldn’t chuck that on you with no warning. I still want a safe word, though, because you’re going to have to be quiet, because your parents are two rooms away, and if you don’t think you’re going to be able to be quiet, I need a word, okay?”

“Stop isn’t good enough?” Ava asks.

Sara sighs. “Just give me a word, baby.”

“Fine. Beebo.”

“Beebo?” Sara asks, screwing up her face. “Like…. ‘Wah wah Beebo loves you’?”

“Yes. Charlotte had one when she was a kid. Least sexy thing ever.”

“Okay. Yeah. Sure. That works. I’m gonna start now, okay?”

Ava nods, and so she does. She presses Ava backwards, pulls her underwear carefully down, and then sits on Ava’s stomach, looking at her. “Where do you want them? It’s up to you. I’m doing this for you, baby. Whatever you want. If you want to stop, or…”

“No,” Ava breathes. “Above my head. Please. I need to… I need to relax. I’m so fucking tense, Sara, I can’t take it. I need to let go. I need to forget. I need you to help me relax, Sara, please. Please.” She looks close to a breaking point, like she’s about to start crying, and Sara hates it.

“Shh,” Sara says, and then she leans down, kissing Ava. At the same time, she uses her hands to move Ava’s above her head, and then ties the knot, all while still kissing her. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Just breathe. I’ve got you. I’ve always got you, baby.” Underneath her lips, she can feel Ava’s breathing slowing a little bit.

When she breaks away, the knot done, Ava is surprised. “You’re… very good at that. You weren’t even looking.”

Sara shrugs. “I’ve tied lots of knots in my life.”

“Sexual… knots?” Ava asks, worrying at her lip.

“Sometimes,” Sara says, before leaning down to kiss Ava again. “I’ve done lots of shit, Ava, but you don’t need to worry. Most of it is more effort and mess than it’s worth. I don’t care about doing shit like that. All I care about is you, and being with you, and what makes you feel good.”

“I care about making _you_ feel good, though,” Ava says.

“You do, baby. I’ve told you this. I’m having the best sex I’ve ever had, and we’re managing that without… chains and knives and weird contraptions.”

“Knives?” Ava asks, her eyes wide.

“One time. Not fun. I think I still have a tiny scar on my leg. But, the point is, is that what makes you feel good is what makes me feel good, Ava. But… I’m not sure you’re ready for this. You’re sure you’re not too anxious, baby?”

At that, Ava’s eyes get even wider. “No. Sara. I need this, I promise.”

“You’re not overwhelmed?” Sara asks, closing her hand over Ava’s bound ones, the other one on Ava’s face as Sara kisses her neck.

“No. I want this.”

“You sure you’re ready?” Ava nods, eager, and Sara smiles, wiping some hair from her face. “Quiet, yeah, baby?” Ava nods again.

“Can you keep your hand on mine?” Ava whispers. “I like how it feels.”

It’s Sara’s turn to nod, working out what Ava wants from what she’s asked. “Of course. Now just… relax. Forget everything. Let me take care of you,” she says, as her fingers move lower.

Ava’s eyes close. She bites her lip. Sara smiles, keeps moving her fingers, and then leans back down to kiss her.

The next day, Ava pulls Sara to the side after breakfast. “I need you to take Charlotte out. Maybe Christmas shopping, if she needs to do any.”

“Why?” Sara asks. “Why am I leaving you alone with _them_?”

“I need to talk to them, darling, and I need to do it alone. As much as I love having you as backup, I need to show them that I’m a grown woman who’s not going to take any shit anymore, not to me or to my girlfriend or my kids. I let them walk all over me when I first got Charlotte. I’m not going to let that happen any longer. So I have to talk to them. Alone.”

Sara nods, sighing. “I get that. Just… text if you need us to come back, and we’ll come right back.”

Ava smiles, kisses her. “I will. Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”

So, later that morning, Sara takes Charlotte out into Starling. She’s constantly checking her phone, so much that Charlotte eventually pulls it away from her, turns the sound on loud, and then tucks it in her own back pocket.

“She’ll be fine, Sara. She’s stronger than you think.”

Sara sits down on a bench, sighing. “I know she is. I don’t think she isn’t. I just… I hate knowing she’s alone with _them_. They’ve belittled her sexuality for _twenty-three _years, baby. That’s a long time.”

Charlotte leans into her. “Yeah, but she’s not going to let them do that anymore. She’s got me, and she’s got you, and she’s got the jellybean, and she’s not going to take any shit from them anymore. I know that.”

Sara turns to Charlotte, frowning, and Charlotte puts her hand up. “Sorry. Crap. Anyway. My point stands. She’s okay. I know my Mom. She can make anyone terrified of her in half a second if she wants. She’s not going to let them walk all over her anymore.”

Sara sighs again. “Yeah. You’re right, baby.”

Charlotte grins. “I’m always right,” she says, cheekily.

Sara taps her nose, smiling, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. “You say things like that and it’s just… like I suddenly remember that you’re my daughter. I… thanks for finding me, baby,” she says, her heart suddenly speeding up, thinking about how different things would be if Charlotte hadn’t come, if she’d ignored her like she’d really wanted to.

“You’re welcome,” Charlotte says, standing up. “You should get me a hot chocolate as thanks.” She holds out her hand, and Sara lets herself get pulled upwards.

“I should get you a hot chocolate?” Sara asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Mmhmm,” Charlotte says, her eyes wide. “Definitely.”

“Okay,” Sara says, pulling Charlotte close, ruffling her hair. “Let's get something to drink. Keep listening out for your mom, though, okay?”

Charlotte nods.

In the cafe, Charlotte talks, and Sara is content to listen, to sip her drink and her watch her daughter chatter animatedly, her face lit up as she talks about a book she’s reading, a show she’s watching, some of her friends at her school.

Her heart is so full, and for ten minutes, her love for Charlotte overwhelms everything, and she forgets to think about Ava, to worry about her.

And then she hears her phone chime, and she’s immediately alert, gesturing at Charlotte for the phone.

_You can come home now_

Is the only message on the screen. They’ve finished their drinks, so Sara stands up, and Charlotte does the same, pulling their coats on. As they walk back to the house, Sara types up a text.

_How did it go?_

_Fine_

Sara stares at that. She has no idea what ‘fine’ means. It could be great or it could be terrible. Ava is always concise in texts, preferring to explain things face to face, and, so, Sara tells herself, it’s not necessarily a bad thing.

It might all be okay.

And then they get back to the house, and their car is gone, and suddenly her heart has sped up again, her fingers fumbling for the lock.

She can see Ava in the living room, staring at something in her lap, and she presses a kiss to the top of Charlotte’s head, then says, “Go upstairs, baby. We’ll talk in a bit, yeah?”

Charlotte nods, disappears upstairs.

Sara makes her way into the living room. Ava looks up, like she’d only just noticed they’d got back.

“Baby?” Sara asks. “Are they— are they gone? Their car isn’t there. Did it… did it go badly?”

There’s confusion on Ava’s face for a second, and then she breaks into a smile. “Oh. No. No. Sorry. It went fine. I said it went fine, didn’t I?”

Sara sits down, runs her hand over Ava’s cheek. “‘Fine’ could mean many things, babe.”

“Oh,” Ava says, ducking her head, leaning her forehead against Sara’s. “Sorry. No. It went… it went good.”

“Then where are they?”

“Shopping.”

“Like… Christmas shopping?”

Ava shakes her head. “Grocery shopping.”

“Grocery shopping?” Sara asks, confused.

“They’re cooking us dinner.”

“Oh. That’s… good? So it went good?”

Ava nods. “It went as good as it could’ve. They… they apologised. You were right. They needed to see me happy to understand it. Not just happy with a kid, because that didn’t do it. But happy with a woman. With you. I think… they thought it wasn’t possible. Just straight up wasn’t possible for me to be happy without a man.

“Thought I’d always be tortured and lonely and even though I never _was_, now that I’ve got you, they actually believe it. So… not perfect, but it’s… something. They like you. Even if my mom still thinks you’re too young. She’s just about got the concept of bisexuality, but now she thinks you’re going to ditch me for a twenty year old.”

Sara screws up her face. “A twenty year old would be eight years older than my child.”

Ava laughs, lightly, looking down at whatever is in her lap. It’s a box, small and white. “That’s what I said. Maybe after we get married she’ll stop thinking that.”

At that, Sara sucks in air. “Is that… a proposal?”

And then Ava’s eyes snap up. “No. No. Sorry. I know we’re waiting. I was just… talking generally. But uh, I was thinking of it kinda because they gave me… this.” At the words, she snaps the box open, and inside, nestled in some fabric, is a ring. An engagement ring.

The round diamond in the middle is large, but just small enough not to be obscene. There are tiny gems around it, the gold of the band twisting around them in a way that’s ridiculously elegant.

“Shit, Ava. That’s beautiful.”

“It was my grandma’s. I never even knew they had it. I thought it had gone to my aunt. But…” she looks up, and Sara can tell she’s trying not to cry. “Turns out they just didn’t give it to me. My grandma _wanted_ me to have it and they still didn’t fucking give it to me until _now_ and she’s been dead for almost fifteen years and—”

And then tears actually fall, and Sara just pulls her close, lets her cry, because she needs to. She knows Ava would’ve held the tears in while her parents were still here, and she knows Ava needs to let it out.

“Why am I still so _angry_? They said _sorry_.”

“It’s okay,” Sara whispers, her hands stroking over Ava’s back. “It’s okay, baby. Let it out. It’s okay to feel angry even after they apologised. They hurt you, okay? I know you’re going to feel bad for still being angry at them whatever I say, but you’re allowed to.”

At that, Ava nods against her, whispers, “Thank you. Thank you.”

Sara lets her cry a few more minutes, and then pulls her back, wiping at the tears. “Would you like me to kiss you, now?” she asks, and Ava nods again. “Come here, baby,” Sara whispers, curling her hands around Ava’s neck, pulling her towards her.

When their mouths meet, Ava lets out a relieved sound, presses closer to Sara, as if she needs the touch to reassure her. When they break apart, they still stay close, Sara murmuring affirmations.

Eventually, Ava’s breathing has slowed, and the tears have stopped, and Sara twists them so that she can properly get her arms around Ava.

“So they gave you the ring?”

Ava sighs, nods. “For us. For… whenever we want to do it. They liked you enough to give it to me. I don’t think they would’ve given it if they didn’t like you, and I can’t work out if that’s a good or a bad thing.”

Sara wipes some hair out of the way, kisses Ava’s temple. She takes the box from Ava’s hands, examines it. “Maybe it’s just a thing. Maybe it doesn’t have to be good or bad.”

“Yeah. You’re right.” She lets out another sigh.

“But, overall, it went… good?”

“Yeah. It went good. Like I said. As well as it could’ve gone. I told them… I told them I forgave them, but that we couldn’t just go back to how things were before I came out. Because that’s impossible. I was a teenager, and they made me doubt myself and hate myself and feel so utterly _lost_ all through college and my twenties, and I’m not getting that time back. So I can’t just… pretend none of that happened. But we can… try again, at least. We can do that.”

Sara nods, pulling Ava in for another kiss. “I’m proud of you. I’m _so_ proud of you, you understand? You’re so brave.”

Ava smiles against Sara’s lips. “You helped me be brave, my love.”

Two days later, on Christmas Eve, Karen disappears upstairs after dinner, and returns with another pile of wool in her hands, passes it to Sara.

When Sara unrolls it, it’s a stocking, an elaborate S knitted in in dark gold wool. The shape of it is familiar, and Sara realises with a jolt that it’s the same as Ava and Charlotte’s. That Ava had kept stockings her mother had given to her, even when they weren’t speaking. It makes their estrangement even sadder, makes Sara feel even more angry towards them, but it’s hard to feel that when Karen is looking at her with such anticipation, wanting her to like it.

“Thank you, Karen,” she says, “this is really kind,” and it’s not a lie. It _is_ really kind, even if she’s thinking of other things she’d like to say at the same time.

Karen smiles, and Ava does too, and Sara knows that that was the right thing to do. To behave, to be grateful, because, even though she’s angry, the gesture is touching her.

They hang them on their fireplace, and there’s a twinkle in Ava’s eye when she looks at them. Sara squeezes her hand.

And then Karen brings out something else. It’s tiny, and when she hands it over, Sara can see that it’s a tiny stocking. “It’s for, you know. The baby. I knitted it while I was here.”

With that, Sara can see actual tears brimming in Ava’s eyes, and she pulls her into the hallway, muttering some excuse about needing to talk to her. She wipes at Ava’s eyes “It’s okay, babe.”

“They’re trying so hard,” Ava whispers. “I’m feeling… so much. I can’t take it. I’m still so angry but I just want to love them and let them love me and I… what am I supposed to feel, Sara?”

“All of those feelings. It’s okay. You can feel all of those things. You can feel all of those things. Things don’t have to be fine immediately. They sure as fuck weren’t with _my _parents. But you’ll get there, yeah. You just… have to let yourself feel whatever you need to feel. And I’ll be here to support you, no matter _what_, okay? No matter what. I will do _anything_ for you. Just say the word. Anything. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it.”

Ava smiles. “Fuck, Sara. I love you so much.”

Sara wipes one more time at her tears, then squeezes her hand. “You okay to go back in?”

Ava nods.

The rest of the evening goes smoothly. Ava’s parents go up to bed early, and then they’re left with the three of them, curled up on the couch with some cheesy movie on.

“How exactly did we land on Married by Christmas?” Ava asks, squinting at the description.

“Because the main actress looks weirdly like you, remember?” Charlotte says, rolling her eyes.

It’s true, although Ava refuses to see it.

Sometime around half midnight, Charlotte falls asleep on Sara’s shoulder. Ava moves some hair out of her face, looking down at her fondly.

“You know,” she says, her voice low. “If things hadn’t happened how they did with my parents, I wouldn’t have her. I wouldn’t have you. I wouldn’t have the peanut. I wouldn’t have any of you guys. So… I wish things had been different with them, but also I… don’t. I can’t. I couldn’t want any more than this, now.”

Sara leans into her. “I know. I know.”

“I don’t want to wake her,” Ava sighs.

Sara shakes her head. “We don’t have to. I’ll take her up.”

“Up the stairs?” Ava asks. “You’re safe to do that?”

Sara nods. “Yeah, babe. She weighs like 80lb. I’ve got her. Trust me.”

“No,” Ava says. “Yeah. I do. I do. Take her up. I’ll be up in a minute. Santa’s gotta visit first.”

Getting up, Sara scoops Charlotte up into her arms, getting a grip on her, and then slowly making her way upstairs. As she takes the stairs, she stirs, but not enough to wake up. She’s already in pyjamas, so all Sara does is gently ease her arms out of the Christmas sweater she’s wearing, draw the covers up over her, settling her down.

Watching her, her chest slowly rising up and down, Sara wonders at the love she feels. No matter how long she lives with them, she’s still bowled over by the amount of love she feels, love she was sure she was incapable of.

On the landing, she meets Ava. “She’s still asleep?”

“Yeah. I dropped her on her head, but I think she’s fine.”

Ava rolls her eyes. “You’re terrible.”

Sara leans in for a kiss, grabbing the front of Ava’s shirt. “And also the person in charge of your Christmas presents, so don’t be rude.”

Ava rolls her eyes again, but kisses Sara, melting into her briefly, before pushing Sara lightly towards the stairs. “Do your job then, Santa,” she says, before moving into the bedroom.

Five minutes later, Sara’s in bed with Ava. Ava’s eyes are already closed, and she’s pretty sure she’s already fallen asleep. “Happy Christmas, baby,” she whispers, kissing Ava’s cheek.

She’s not expecting anything back, but then Ava rolls over, wraps her arms around Sara, and whispers, “Happy Birthday, Sara,” back, and Sara’s heart swells.

They wake up to Charlotte running into their room, all three of their stockings in hand. It’s still early, but Sara’s happy to sit and watch Charlotte opening things, to watch Ava opening her slightly smaller amount of gifts, to open hers.

Ava knows her well, and, by the time they go down to breakfast, there’s a small pile of things on her bed stand which she loves.

There aren’t many things under the tree for the two of them. They’d agreed that they’d mostly just spend the money on treatments or on baby things, but there’s still a few things.

In the afternoon, Sara opens both her Christmas present and birthday present from Ava. They’re both ridiculously thoughtful, and it’s obvious that Ava had put a lot of thought into them. One of them is a necklace, and when she opens it, she’s stuck, frozen for a second.

It’s a necklace almost exactly like the one she used to own, the one Laurel had given her, that she’d lost on the Gambit, in the chaos of the water.

“Is it the same?” she asks.

Ava nods. “I found photos of it on your facebook, and tracked it down.”

Sara shivers at the feeling of Ava’s fingers, gentle on her neck as she puts it on, all the while looking down at her other present, a sweater so soft she feels like she’s holding a little bit of a cloud in her hands.

“They’re beautiful, babe,” she says, turning to Ava, and she’s about to kiss her, when she realises that they haven’t done that in front of their parents yet, that Ava has probably never kissed a woman in front of her parents before, and so she just puts a tentative hand on Ava’s neck. “Can I?” she mouths, and Ava nods, a tiny nod that is almost imperceptible, and she kisses Ava, soft and gentle and ridiculously chaste.

When they pull back, Ava sighs, another tiny gesture, and then a smile breaks on her face. It reminds Sara of the first time they kissed in public, that look on her face: relief and happiness and like she’s let something go.

Sara squeezes her hand, smiles at her, and then passes over her present. It’s a tiny box, and, for a second, Karen looks worried, and Ava smiles. “Don’t worry, Mom. It’s not a ring. I showed you the one you gave me.”

“Well,” Sara says. “It is actually a ring. Just not _that _type. I thought it was time I got you one back.”

Ava opens it, and her mouth falls open. It’s not exactly the same as the one she and Charlotte had given Sara two years ago, but it’s similar. The band is slightly smaller, slightly more delicate, in fact, the whole ring is smaller, because Ava’s fingers are ridiculously slim— and, Sara’s traitorous mind reminds her, ridiculously talented, but she pushes that thought down, because now is _not_ the time.

But the inscription inside is almost identical. The initials of the three of them, linked together, linked together in a way that is no longer bittersweet, but a celebration of their family.

Ava slides it on, and it fits perfectly. “Sara,” she breathes. “I love it.”

Charlotte comes over to examine it, and, for a second, there’s a tiny expression of sadness on her face. Sara can read it immediately. “I’m gonna get you one at some point, baby, but maybe when you’re slightly older. I don’t want to get it and then for us to have to resize it when you get bigger,” she says, pulling Charlotte down onto the couch next to her. “You’ll have one, promise,” she says, pressing her lips into Charlotte hair, holding her tight. “I wouldn’t forget about you.”

That placates Charlotte, and she goes back to opening her own presents.

Ava and Sara spend the rest of the afternoon in and out of the kitchen. Karen has many things to say about the meal, but Ava mostly ignores them, only changing one thing that she was actually objectively doing wrong.

Sara spends most of the time doing whatever Ava directs her to do, and the rest of the time rubbing soothing circles on the small of Ava’s back, dropping kisses on her shoulder, on the nape of her neck, on her spine, deliciously on show in the dress she’s wearing, with its low back.

When it comes time to serve, Ava is biting her lip, looking at the spread of food nervously.

“It looks amazing, babe,” Sara whispers. “It looks great. Promise.”

Ava just nods, and, together, they bring everything through, and, with only a moment’s hesitation, Ava very conspicuously places the ham in front of Sara’s name card.

Paul raises an eyebrow. “Sweetheart, don’t you want me to—” he starts to say.

“Nope,” Ava says, settling down next to Charlotte, laying her napkin in her lap with a flourish. “Sara’s gonna do that.”

“Oh,” he says, “so she wears the—”

“Nope,” Ava says again, her jaw tight, her smile extremely forced. “Strangely enough, Dad, neither of us is the man in this relationship, because both of us are women.”

If Sara didn’t love Ava with all of her heart, if she didn’t care more about not embarrassing her than taking the opportunity to mortify her parents, she would’ve quipped something about how, if they were thinking about sex in the most heteronormative way possible, Ava was the one who wore the trousers, but she wouldn’t do that, so she keeps her mouth shut, focused on sharpening the knife with expert ease. When she’s done, she twirls it a little, showing off slightly, and she sees his eyes on her hands.

“She’s carving because this is _our_ house, it’s _our_ Christmas dinner, so we get to choose who carves. And we’ve chosen Sara, because she’s much better with a knife than I am.”

Paul looks like he’s about to say something, and then Karen seems to hit him under the table, and it’s her who talks instead. “Oh. Are you a cook, Sara?”

“Nope,” Sara says, a smile on her face, as she begins to carve. “I’m a terrible cook. Just good with a knife.”

“How come?” Karen asks, polite curiosity on her face.

“She learnt in prison,” Charlotte pipes up, and there’s a cheeky smile on her face.

Ava’s head whips around, shock on her face, but the damage is already done.

“Prison?” Karen asks, her voice rising an octave.

Sara waves this away. “I didn’t get good with a knife in prison. There aren’t many knives in there. It was afterwards. Anyway—” she says, trying to move the conversation forward, but Paul isn’t having it.

“You were in prison?” he asks, incredulous. “What for?”

“Murder,” Charlotte says, smirking into her potatoes. “She’s a convicted felon.”

“Not murder!” Sara says, hastily. “Definitely not murder. Charlotte’s just kidding. Although, admittedly, they _were _felonies. But, uh, it was just… some light property damage. And theft. And a little identity fraud,” she adds, tilting her head, thinking. “Yeah, that’s everything.”

Ava’s voice, when she speaks, is a little panicky. “She was very young, though. It’s been a long time since then. She wasn’t even eighteen. It was a stupid kid thing. She’s not like that anymore. You know, she works in law enforcement, now.”

Karen nods, and, for a second, Sara thinks that that’s smoothed things over, and then Karen says, “Wait. Eighteen. She was eighteen when she had Charlotte. Does that mean—”

“I’m a prison baby,” Charlotte says, cheerily. “You can just call me Charlotte ‘Prison Baby’ Sharpe.”

“Oh, Lord,” Karen says. “Paul. Our granddaughter was born in _prison_.”

“Yes,” Ava says, pinching the bridge of her nose. “She was. And she’s turned out just _fine_, because, funnily enough, where you spent the first few hours of your life actually has no bearing on what sort of person you become. Now, I would _love_ it if we could just eat the food I spent hours preparing, instead of commenting on my girlfriend’s teenage escapades. Can we please just do that? Please?”

And, in what seems like a miracle, her parents both nod. Sara finishes carving, and sits down, gripping Ava’s hand briefly under the table.

Everyone is excessively polite for the rest of the meal. No-one rocks the boat as they watch a movie afterwards.

Again, Ava’s parents go up first, and they’re left with the three of them. In a quiet moment, it’s Charlotte’s voice that breaks the silence. “Sorry,” she says, her voice tiny.

Ava frowns. “What for, baby?”

“I brought up the prison stuff. I just… I wanted to rile them up a little. They’ve been so terrible to you my whole life, and I just… I’ve never been able to talk back. I was like _six_ the last time we saw them. I just wanted to get one over on them but… I shouldn’t have. I made things difficult. I’m sorry,” she says, again.

“Oh, baby,” Ava says, gathering Charlotte up in her arms. “You don’t need to apologise. Honestly, it’s probably good that they found out now, and not somewhere more potentially disastrous.”

“So I didn’t mess up?” Charlotte asks.

“Well…” Ava says, slowly. “It’s probably best that in future we talk through these things first, but, no, you didn’t mess up, sweetie. Although, also, maybe it’s best we don’t even joke about Sara being a murderer?”

Charlotte blushes. “Okay. Yeah.”

“My parents just aren’t great with… jokes,” Ava says. “But it’s okay. Don’t worry. I’m not mad at you. It’s Christmas. There isn’t time to be mad. I just want to… spend some time with my family.” She wraps her arms around both of them, pulling them close, pressing a kiss to Sara’s temple, and then Charlotte’s, then moving her hand so it’s resting on Sara’s stomach. “Three Christmases ago, it was just the two of us. And now there’s four. I can’t believe it.”

They stay down there a little longer, and then, eventually, they make their way upstairs. “Night, baby,” Sara whispers. “Don’t stay up too much later. We’re walking tomorrow, yeah?”

Charlotte nods, disappears into her room.

When she’s gone, Ava takes Sara’s hand, pulls them inside theirs—and then locks the door. Sara raises an eyebrow. “What are we doing?”

Ava moves backwards towards the bed, then turns around, slipping her dress off, then her underwear, before bending down, pulling something out from under the bed. “It’s your birthday as well, babe. And I, uh… I don’t want to do this all the time. Maybe not even often. But with my parents here, after all that mess at the dinner table, I need to let go again.”

When she drops the items into Sara’s hands, it’s more scarves, but this time they’re darker, an inky midnight blue, and silky, not wool.

Sara looks at them. There’s more than one. She looks up at Ava, quizzically. “What are the other ones for?”

“Get undressed, and I’ll tell you,” Ava says, and Sara does as she’s told, before pushing Ava backwards, kissing her as they fall onto the bed.

“Safe word?” she asks.

“Beebo,” Ava gasps out.

“Good,” Sara purrs. “Now, you wanna tell me what these are for, other than your hands?” she says, as she ties the knot around Ava’s hands, as Ava’s breaths start quickening, coming out in little gasps.

“Eyes,” Ava says.

“You don’t want to see me?” Sara asks, mock pouting.

“No, I just—”

Sara leans down to kiss her again, smiling. “No, I got it, baby, don’t worry,” she says, gently lifting up Ava’s head so she can get it in place. “Okay. There’s one more. What are we doing with this one?”

Ava bites her lip. “I’m not so sure about this one. I just wanted to… see.”

“Okay. What are we trying?”

“Remember when I said there was something we could maybe try on… your birthday?” Ava says, and even though Sara can’t see her eyes, she can see she’s apprehensive. “I thought a scarf would be a better place to… start.”

“You’re sure?” Sara asks, running it through her hands.

“Yeah. Let’s just… let’s just try.”

“You’re not gonna be able to talk,” Sara says. “Safe word doesn’t work if you can’t talk.”

Ava wriggles a little, and then her hands are in a slightly different position, her fingers free to move. “Fingers out of the fist means stop, okay?”

Sara nods, then remembers that’s useless, says, “Yes. Got it. Okay. Deep breath, baby.”

The scarf is in Ava’s mouth for about half a second before something screams out in Sara’s mind that she doesn’t like this in any of the ways she thought she might, and she’s pulled it out again, throwing it away, bending down, kissing Ava. “I don’t like that. Sorry. I don’t know why I thought I would. I need to be able to hear you and kiss you and— fuck, I’m sorry, baby. I don’t want that. I’m sorry if you liked that but I can’t—”

Ava lets herself be kissed for a second, then pulls back, whispers, “It’s okay, darling. It was… weird. Not like, terrible, but I didn’t super like it. It’s okay. You didn't do anything wrong. We just tried it, and we didn’t like it. That’s fine.”

Sara fingers slip underneath the scarf over Ava’s eyes, pulling it up slightly. “You’re okay?” she asks, a little frantic.

“I’m completely fine, Sara. And if you’re okay to keep going, I’d love to. But we don’t have to.”

Sara takes a breath. “No. I want to keep going. Just. No more mouth stuff. I mean. Mouth stuff that involves scarves. Other mouth stuff is cool. Like. Normal mouth stuff—”

Ava cuts her off. “Just kiss me, darling, yeah?”

So Sara does, pulling the scarf back down, kissing her, and the rest of the night is soft, careful, working Ava up over and over again, and then finally letting Ava reciprocate, ending up on her face with her eyes still covered, her hands untied, with a promise that she’ll squeeze if it’s too much.

She doesn’t, and when Sara collapses off of her, she’s pretty sure that, despite Ava’s parents, this is one of the best birthday she’s ever had.

She carefully undoes the scarf around Ava’s eyes, and then sleepily moves around the room, gathering up their clothes, chucking pyjamas at Ava, and unlocking the door, before curling up against Ava and falling asleep.

It’s a good thing that they cleaned up the room, because they’re woken by Charlotte running in, already dressed for the walk. She frowns at them. “You told me not to stay up, and you guys _obviously_ stayed up, because you look half dead.”

Sara groans. “Mmm, thanks, kid. You look great too.”

Beside her, Ava is surreptitiously rolling her wrists, working at them with her fingers.

“Come on, guys,” Charlotte says, before running across the room, pulling the curtains open, flooding the room with light. Sara winces, blinks, but forces herself upwards.

“Give us like, fifteen minutes, yeah?”

Charlotte nods, and then she’s gone. Ava turns to Sara and bursts out laughing. “We really stayed up until like two in the morning having scarf sex, huh?” she whispers, burying her face in the crook of Sara’s neck, her laughter running through Sara’s body.

“Yep,” Sara says, kissing the crown of her head. “And now we gotta go on a walk with our daughter.” It’s Ava’s turn to groan, and Sara pulls her face upwards, kissing her properly. “I know you don’t mean that. This is like your favourite thing we do every Christmas.”

And then Ava sighs. “Do I… do I invite them? I feel like I _should_, but I don’t _want _to. I started this to escape them. A week of them treating me well doesn’t erase that.”

“Then don’t invite them. I’ll back you up, _whatever_, babe.”

At that, Ava nods. They get changed in silence. Downstairs, her parents are eating breakfast.

Ava sets her jaw, then says, “We’re going on a walk now. We’ll be a couple of hours. You’ll understand that I’m not quite ready for you guys to come with us on this. I’ve forgiven you, but I can’t just… I can’t just forget everything. Not just yet. So this is just for my family right now, and my family is Sara and Charlotte. I’m sorry, but that’s the way this is.”

They just nod. Ava lets out a breath, and then turns on her heels, walking out of the kitchen. A second later, she turns, only visible to sara, and mouths, “Can you get me coffee? And a pastry?”

Sara nods, makes the two coffees in silence, pours them into thermoses, grabs a pastry, and then gives them to Ava, who’s been waiting in the hallway.

“I didn’t want to ruin my big exit by going back in,” she says, sheepishly.

Sara puts a reassuring hand on her arm. “Yeah. No I got it. Come on. Let’s go.”

The drive is mostly silent, but Charlotte starts chattering once they get to the forest, once they’re on the trail.

At the top of the hill, the winter sun is bright. The wind is cold, whipping their hair into their faces. Sara loves the view up there. You can see for miles, and it’s beautiful.

But, despite it being a cliche, there’s nothing more beautiful than Ava’s face with a relaxed smile on her face. Charlotte is a little way away, taking photos, when Sara steps closer, uses the scarf around Ava’s neck to pull herself up. “I’m so proud of you, Ava. You handled your parents so well. I’m so proud of you.”

Ava’s smile widens. “I’m proud of you, too,” she says, her hand moving down to Sara’s stomach, and Sara leans in, kisses her.

They’re broken apart by Charlotte’s voice. “Holy shit, guys, I just took the _nicest_ photo of you two.”

She runs over, and she’s right. It’s ridiculously perfect. Sara is up on her toes, Ava’s hands gently resting just over where the baby is growing. The light is soft. They’re perfectly centred.

“You should definitely use this when you announce the baby,” Charlotte says, matter of fact.

Sara ruffles her hair, smiling down at her. “Yeah, kid, maybe we should.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long time no see oops. uni happened and then covid happened but i love this universe and i know y'all do too so it WILL get finished no matter how long it takes. in the mean time, here's a new chapter.

On New Year’s Eve, with her parents long gone, Ava gets more than a little tipsy, more than she usually would, and Sara just watches, amused, as Ava gets drunker and drunker, until she reaches ‘apologetic Ava,’ as if she’s only just noticed that Sara isn’t drinking, and feels bad.

Sara just laughs, and then takes the bottle of champagne away from Ava until after the ball drop. They watch it all together, and Sara kisses Ava lightly. She tastes like champagne, still, and, as they kiss, Ava’s hands trail down to Sara’s stomach. She had to be slightly less drunk than Sara had thought, because she manages to whisper, “This year, babe. We’re having a baby this year.”

Sara just smiles, eventually takes Ava upstairs, when she’s had one last glass of champagne, and they fall asleep, curled into each other, ready to face the new year.

Everything goes as expected for exactly two days, and then, on the third of January, a letter arrives. It’s addressed to Ava, is printed on thick, expensive looking paper, and has a return address of New York.

“Who do we know in New York?” Sara asks, curious, as Ava turns the letter over in her hands.

“No-one,” Ava says, frowning, before picking up their letter opener, carefully cutting it open. Sara likes how Ava does that, how she refuses to open a letter in any way that is less than neat.

She presses closer, trying to see what it is, and then Ava’s mouth falls open. “What?” Sara asks. “Is it bad? Is it a money thing? We can sell my car. And my clothes, and, uhhh—“

“No,” Ava says, shaking her head. “It’s not bad. I’ve been… nominated for some sort of… award?”

“Award?” Sara asks, her interest piqued. When Ava doesn’t say anything, she tugs the letter gently out of Ava’s hands. “Can I look?”

Ava just nods.

_Dear Ava Sharpe,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been nominated for the inaugural Leaders of Tomorrow Awards, an awards gala celebrating LGBT+ people in all levels of government, from local to national._

_You were nominated by a large number of your peers, and, in reviewing your achievements, we have decided that you will be one of a select few receiving an award at our event at the Plaza Hotel on Saturday 13th February…_

Sara doesn’t need to read the rest of it. The first few paragraphs give her the gist of it. She looks up. “Holy shit, Ava! This is amazing! Who do you think nominated you?”

Ava frowns again. “It wasn’t you?”

Sara laughs. “As much as I think that you deserve literally every award in the entire world, I had no idea this thing even existed, let alone how to nominate you. It must have been someone else.”

“I guess…” Ava’s voice is small.

“Ava. Baby. What’s wrong? You don’t want to go?”

“No. I do… it’s just. What did I do to deserve this?”

Sara scoffs. “Is that a joke? What did you do to deserve this? You’ve been pushing to make things better for gay kids for like, the entire time you’ve been Mayor. You stopped that clinic that did the STD tests getting shut down. You started a youth group for LGBT kids because he high school shut theirs down, _and _you’ve been going around and helping other towns do that.”

“Oh,” Ava says. “Yeah. I guess I have been doing that.”

Sara steps closer, her hand on Ava’s cheek. “Remember how Charlotte said everyone kinda knew? I think it might have something to do with how you’ve spent your entire career spearheading LGBT rights, babe. Like, it’s not hard to Google you and see that your job before this was as a civil rights attorney in Star City focusing on combating homophobia. You’re amazing. You’ve… taken all this talent you have and made people’s lives better. That’s why you’re getting this.”

Ava blushes. “You think I’m amazing?”

Sara rolls her eyes. “I always think you’re amazing. But, all this? Yeah. You’re fucking amazing. I’m proud of you. I’m always proud of you.”

And then Ava screws up her mouth. “Where’s Charlotte going to stay? We’ll have to stay in New York overnight.”

“I’ll ask Nora and Ray. I’m sure Jessica would like to have Charlotte over.”

“You’re just gonna _ask?” _Ava asks, sounding a little horrified.

“Yeah, baby,” Sara says, laughing, nudging Ava playfully. “I’m gonna ask them because they’re our friends and I’m sure they’d be fine having her for a weekend. I’ll go over now. I gotta do some stuff in town, anyway. I’ll see you in a bit.” She moves to leave, then looks over at Ava. “You want to go to this, right?”

And then a small smile breaks on Ava’s face. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Good,” Sara says, and then five minutes later, she’s gone.

Starling is cold, and she’s bundled up, her hands shoved in her pockets. When she gets to the bar, it’s a relief to be inside.

“Sara!” Ray says, cheerful as ever. “What can I get you?”

“Nothing right now,” Sara says, moving to lean on the bar. “Or. Kinda something. I have a favour to ask you. Would you be able to have Charlotte for the weekend of the 13th February? I know it’s Valentine’s Day, but this would really help me and Ava out. We’ve got this… thing.”

“Thing, huh?” Ray asks. “What sort of thing?” His voice is overly casual, and Sara’s immediately suspicious.

“This awards gala in New York—“

“New York,” he says, at the same time as her, and then looks sheepish when her eyes narrow.

“Did you nominate her? You two?” Sara asks, putting two and two together.

“Aww, damn,” he says. “I was supposed to try to keep it a secret, but I got so excited!” He turns his head. “Nora? I accidentally told her.”

Nora appears, and it’s very reminiscent of their first meeting. “Already, Ray? _Already_?”

“Sorry,” he says, looking vaguely guilty. “Actually, why were we keeping a secret?”

“So we could spring it on them at a random moment and make Ava cry, remember?”

“Oh,” he says.

At the same time, Sara says, “Hey! That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about. No-one makes her cry and gets away with it.”

“I think you should listen to her, babe,” Ray says. “Remember when you challenged her to an arm wrestle and she beat you like five times in a row?”

Nora rolls her eyes. “Fine. No-one makes Ava cry. You can tell her that it was us,” she says, as if she’s bestowing a gift on Sara.

“You realise I was gonna tell her whatever you said, right?” Sara says, laughing.

Nora gives in, rolling her eyes again, before she breaks into a smile. “Yeah, Okay. And, since we nominated her, we will take the hit of having not one but_ two_ children in our house over Valentine’s weekend.”

“You will?”

Nora shrugs. “It’s the least we can do.”

“Since you’re the reason we’re going to New York anyway.”

“Well. Yeah. That. But also. That youth group has, uhh, really helped Jessica, and it wouldn’t exist without Ava. So I think,” Nora says, quietly. “We owe her more than one weekend of babysitting.”

“Oh,” Sara says. She’s not sure what to say. “Ava never mentioned—“

Ava runs some of the sessions, but it makes sense that she wouldn’t have said anything. One of the main things that’s important about the sessions is confidentiality.

“They’ve helped,” Ray says. “A lot. A lot of other parents feel the same. They were a lot of the nominees. And, some of the kids, too. Some of them with… not so supportive parents. She’s kinda like… a second mother to some of them. So, she deserves this.”

At the talk of children, Sara’s hand goes automatically to her stomach, a gesture that she’s found herself doing, as if to reassure herself, despite the fact that it’s still impossible to feel anything.

And then she looks up, sees Nora looking at her. “How about,” Nora says, smiling, “we have some lovely champagne to celebrate?” She’s got her eyebrows raised, and it’s a clear challenge.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” Sara says, trying to wave it away casually.

“Ha!” Nora says, so loud Ray jumps a little. “You’re pregnant. I knew it.”

“You did?” Ray asks, his expression confused. “How?” He squints at Sara’s stomach, as though a bump might magically appear.

“My womanly senses,” she says, and Ray just nods, as if that checks out. “No, you dumbo. She was like, staring at her stomach while you were talking about how much of a _mother _Ava is to those kids. Disgustingly sappy, in my opinion.”

“Hey,” Sara says, pointing a finger at Nora. “Watch who you call sappy. I could still take you out, even while pregnant. Even with your giant husband to protect you.”

“Mmhmm. If you say so. Anyway,” Nora says, bending down under the bar, pulling out a bottle. “Take this back for Ava. Tell her we say congratulations. She deserves it. The alcohol, and the award. She’s gonna need it, if she has to deal with a pregnant _Sara Lance.”_

Sara grabs it. “You know, my scary prison girlfriend taught me how to kill people over the course of _days_,” she says, backing out of the bar. “_Daaays_. Remember that, Darhk.”

The last thing she hears is Nora laughing.

Back at home, Ava is in her office, the door open, welcoming Sara in. Sara leans down, presses a kiss to Ava’s temple, and Ava smiles, before twisting her head, asking for a real kiss without words.

Sara obliges, lightly tangling her hand in Ava’s hair, before settling in the chair the other side of Ava’s desk. She can tell Ava’s in the middle of something, so she just waits for a minute until Ava finishes what she’s doing, looks up at Sara, resting her chin in her hands.

“Well?” Ava asks. “What did they say?”

“They said yes. Mainly,” Sara says, smiling, “because they were the ones who nominated you. Along with… a lot of other people, apparently.”

Ava ducks her head, her cheeks flushing, like that’s strange to her. Sara reaches across the desk, finding her hand. “People here love you, baby. You know that, right? When I first met Charlotte, she said people were scared of you, but I don’t think that’s true. And even if it _was_, it’s not true anymore. They love you.”

“I don’t, I mean—” Ava is stammering. “I don’t think so.”

Sara shakes her head, confused. “Baby. We have the proof written down on ridiculously fancy paper.”

“Maybe they felt obligated to, or—”

“Ava.” Sara’s voice is firm, as she stands up, as she pulls Ava up, over onto the couch so she can properly get her arms around her. “They love you,” she whispers into Ava’s hair, cupping her head against her chest. “Why are you so reluctant to recognise that? Talk to me.”

Ava sighs, shaking her head, her jaw tight. When she speaks, her voice breaks a little. “Because no-one ever _has_, Sara! Before you came along, I had Charlotte. And that was _it_. I never got to ‘I love you’ with any of the _three_ women I’ve seen since I had her. I didn’t have friends in college, because I was so fucking withdrawn into myself after my parents essentially kicked me out. You _know_ this.”

She’s right. Sara does know this. But she hadn’t exactly put it together, hadn’t figured out exactly why this was hurting Ava so much. “Nobody loved me that wasn’t Charlotte until you came along. And I don’t know… it’s hard to believe that _they_ do. I’m not… I’m not someone people _love_. I’m someone people tolerate. I’m too— I’m too bossy and I follow the rules too much and I can be aggressive and—”

“And you’re also the kindest, most caring, most loving and thoughtful person I know, Ava. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who cares as much as you do, about _everything. _You care about this town, and its people, and people see that. And, okay, sure, you can be bossy, but you’re the _boss_, baby. That’s literally your job.”

Ava laughs a hiccupy laugh.

“Do you know what Nora and Ray talked about when I asked them? They talked about Jessica. They said that your group has done her the world of good. Maybe people aren’t lining up at your door to tell you how much they appreciate you, but they care about you, and I need you to understand that. I know… I know it’s hard feeling like no-one loves you, like no-one ever will, because, fuck, I was there, Ava. I was there for years. I’d convinced myself I was no good and I lived my life that way, not causing trouble but not exactly _helping_.

“And all that time, you were _here_, feeling the same way, but instead of wallowing, you were doing something, and even if you didn’t know it was happening, you were making people love you. There’s a reason people keep voting you in. It’s not because they’re scared of you. Charlotte was wrong. It was because they love you. I know… I know it’s hard to accept, when you’re convinced that you’re… unlovable, but you’re not, because I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone that didn’t literally come out of my body, and so does Charlotte, and the town does. So just… accept that you’re amazing, baby, because you make me _feel_ amazing, and I didn’t think that was possible.”

Ava swallows, her eyes watering. “You _are_ amazing,” she whispers, and Sara smiles a sad smile, reaching up to tuck some hair behind Ava’s ear, before cupping her face, pulling her close.

“So are you. You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. And like, sure, maybe I’m biased, but even before I was in love with you, I could see how fucking amazing you are. So… just listen to the mother of your children, okay. I’m right.”

Laughing again, Ava tilts her head further into Sara’s touch. “You’re right?”

“Yes,” Sara says, leaning in, kissing her. “I am. You’re amazing, and we’re gonna go to this gala, and you’re gonna get an award. And then we’re going to go back to our hotel, and we’re going to have _such_ good sex.” At that, Ava rolls her eyes, her cheeks tingeing pink. Sara sighs, stroking her thumb over Ava’s skin. “You know how cute that is? That we’re two years in and have literally had semi-kinky sex and you’re still here _blushing_.”

This makes Ava’s cheeks go pinker. She bites her lip, and Sara leans in, kisses her cheek, kisses all over, tiny, light kisses all over her face, before finally cupping it between her hands, and kissing Ava properly. Ava sinks into it, pressing closer, before finally pulling back after thirty seconds. “Can’t help it,” she mumbles into Sara’s mouth. “You just have that effect on me.”

At that, Sara smirks a little, kissing Ava one last time before pulling back. “In that case,” she says, running a finger through Ava’s hair, “never stop, baby. I don’t want to ever stop making you feel that way.” Her finger moves down, tracing over Ava’s lips, pressing inside just the tiniest bit, before she pulls it away.

Ava’s mouth is open, and she swallows, staring at Sara. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s happening any time soon if you keep doing things like _that_. Two years and I… I still feel like it’s the first time every time.”

Sara looks down, finding Ava’s hands. “Speaking of two years… you know how we budget money for anniversary gifts?”

“Mmhmm,” Ava hums. “Yeah. Why?”

“I wanna spend all the money on you. I don’t need anything. I already had my Christmas and birthday presents. I wanna buy you a dress for the gala.”

“Sara,” Ava protests, softly. “I don’t need a new dress. I have a few I could wear, it’s fine—”

Sara shakes her head. “Nope. I wanna get you a new one. You deserve it. Please? Let me buy you a fancy expensive dress? Please? I know exactly the sort to get; you’re gonna _love_ it I promise.”

Ava screws up her mouth, looking apprehensive. “I don’t know…”

“I want you to look stunning. I want every single lesbian in that room to be jealous of me. Please. Let me get you this, baby.” She widens her eyes, giving Ava her best pleasing expression. “Please, Ava. I want to do this for you. Please let me get you this present. You deserve it.”

Ava finally breaks, smiling. “Okay. Okay. Yeah. Buy me a dress. But you gotta at least let me try it on before the night.”

“Pinky,” Sara says, leaning forward, burying her face in Ava’s neck, kissing the skin.

“What do you want to _do_ for our anniversary?” Ava asks, her hand on Sara’s head, gently working her fingers through the tangles, occasionally dropping kisses on her hair.

“Can we just stay in with Charlotte?” Sara murmurs. “I feel so weird half the time. I don’t want to go out and then have to come back because I feel like shit.”

Ava nods, smiling. “Yeah, sure. We can order in some fancy food so we don’t have to cook.”

And that’s what they do, and it’s a good idea, because Sara hits a rough patch, where everything feels strange and she feels like she’s going to throw up if she moves properly, so an evening curled on the couch, watching a movie with Ava and Charlotte is exactly what she needs.

Ava’s hand rests on her waist the whole time, and when they move up to their bedroom, it’s still there as she hovers over Sara, the other hand by her head. “How you feeling?” Ava whispers. “We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want. You know that, right?”

Sara smiles, pulling Ava down to kiss her. “Of course I know, you idiot. I want to. I’ve been all crampy all day and you know what helps with cramps….” she trails off, raising an eyebrow.

“Is that you asking me for something?” Ava whispers, the corner of her mouth tilting up.

Sara just rolls her eyes, shoving Ava’s head downwards. “You know it is.”

Ava laughs, kissing Sara’s stomach, stroking her thumbs over her skin. “We’re at week eight, now,” she whispers. “You know what size it is, now?”

Sara smiles a soft smile. “Jellybean. Charlotte will like that.”

“And then next week it’s—“

“Peanut,” Sara finishes. “Yeah I know.”

Ava looks up, her fingers toying with the hem of Sara’s panties. “Did you—“

“Download that app you sent me and obsessively check it? Maybe.”

Ava grins. “And you call _me _the nerd.”

Sara rolls her eyes again. “Shut up and eat me out.”

And Ava, always amenable, does.

Two weeks later, the dress Sara had ordered, had had specially tailored to Ava’s measurements, arrives.

That evening, after dinner, she brings Ava up to their room. “Close your eyes,” she says. “I don’t want you seeing it.”

Ava dutifully closes them, but when Sara peeks out of the cupboard, the dress still in its bag, Ava is cracking an eye open.

“Ava!” Sara admonishes. “Am I going to have to get an actual blindfold?”

Ava’s eyes snap closed again. “I won’t look. Promise.” As she speaks, she smiles, her tongue slipping out slightly, clearly excited, and Sara is immediately even more glad she persuaded her into this. She deserves a nice dress, a nice night out, and Sara is going to give it to her.

She hangs the garment bag up on the closet door, unzips it, pulling the dress out. It’s jet black, a thigh high slit up the side, straps off the shoulders.

She’ll look beautiful in it. The neckline has all of her skin on show, smooth and a little less tan than usual, after a cold winter. Her leg will be equally exposed, but just little enough to still be classy.

There’s a hidden zip down the back, and she unzips that, moves over to Ava.

“Arms up, baby,” she whispers, and Ava obliges, letting her slip the dress over her head. When she pulls it down, zips it up, it fits like a glove. Sara spins Ava around, examining it from all angles, and then makes a satisfied sound.

“Good?” Ava asks.

“Yeah, Aves, so good. I’m gonna get your shoes to check the length, yeah?”

Ava worries at her lip. “They’re not _too_ high, right? I wanna be able to walk in them, and I don’t want to be towering over you.”

Sara runs her hand over Ava’s cheek, presses up on her toes to kiss her. “I’ve thought of all that, babe. It’s just the strappy ones with the low heel. I got you, remember?”

Ava smiles a crooked smile, her eyes still closed. “Yeah. Sorry. I know.”

“It’s okay. Just wait here. I’ll get them.” Thirty seconds later, she bends down to Ava’s feet. “Use me for balance,” she says, and Ava’s fingers thread through her hair as she lifts first one then the other foot up.

When she stands back up, the hem is just brushing on the ground, and Sara grins, satisfied that her measurements had worked out this well. “All perfect, babe,” she says, before bending down, pulling Ava’s shoes off again, unzipping her, catching the fabric before it hits the floor, hiding it away again.

When she’s out of the closet, Ava is standing there, her arms wrapped around herself, shivering a little in her underwear. Sara steps closer, placing her hands on Ava’s arms, running her palms up and down over the goosebumps forming.

“You don’t want to put your pyjamas on?” Sara asks, raising an eyebrow.

Ava shakes her head minutely, licks her lower lip again. “No,” she breathes, pulling Sara backwards.

On the day before the gala, Ava spends the whole day running around the house, packing and repacking everything a hundred times. There’s hardly anything in their tiny suitcases—they’re only going for two nights—but she still seems terrified she’ll forget something.

In the afternoon, an hour before hey have to leave for their flight, Sara sits her down on the couch, turns the TV on, and says, “Watch.”

“But—“ Ava begins to protest, trying to stand up, before Sara pushes her back down.

“Relax, baby. This is supposed to be fun for you. I’ll do the final checks, but, really, all we need are our dresses, our phones, our wallets, and each other, yeah? Everything else we could manage with out. I mean, not that we’re _going to_, but we _could_. So, stay here, hang out with Charlotte when she gets back and I’ll finish packing.”

Ava, remarkably, does what she’s told, and when Sara comes down forty-five minutes later with their suitcases and a garment bag over her forearm, Ava is still on the couch, Charlotte curled up next to her. Ava is murmuring something in her ear, and, for a second, Sara is utterly stuck in reverence, and then she shakes herself out of it, moving into the room.

Ava looks up. “Ready?”

“Yeah. I texted Ray. He and Jessica are driving us to the airport, then taking Charlotte back to theirs. _You _ready?”

Ava nods. Charlotte grabs the overnight bag they’d packed for her that morning. A few minutes later, Ray arrives, the same cheery smile on his face as usual.

Sara shoves Ava into the shotgun seat. “I’ll sit with the kids, baby,” she whispers. “You just relax. Talk to Ray. Get him to tell you about that app he’s trying to develop. It’s so complicated you won’t be able to think of anything else.”

On the way there, Ava does just that. Sara mostly scrolls through her phone, checking emails, her hand under her sweater, resting contentedly on her stomach. She’d just started to show, a tiny bump that was easily hidden by anything not skin tight, and she couldn’t help but her hands on it whenever she could.

At the airport, Ava’s mouth twisted as she looked at Charlotte chatting to Jessica. “Am I a terrible mother for leaving her?”

“Are you saying I’m a terrible mother?” Sara asks, raising an eyebrow.

“No! I just—“ Sara just tilts her head, glaring Ava into submission. “Okay. I get it. I just— it’s Valentine’s Day and—“

“Lottie?” Sara calls, beckoning her over, wrapping her arm around her shoulder. She looks down at her. “Are you okay with us going away for the weekend and you staying with Jessica?”

Charlotte looks confused. “Uh, Yeah? I already said it was cool like a month ago,” she says, disdainfully, like the question is stupid, before running away again.

Sara crosses her arms. “See? I think we can be sure that this weekend won’t irrevocably traumatise her. Our anniversary last year certainly didn’t, so there’s no reason why this would. Let’s get going, baby,” she says, holding out her hand, gripping Ava’s tight.

Ava takes a deep breath, steels herself, then walks over to where the others are standing, wrapping her arms around Charlotte. “Don’t cause too much trouble, baby,” she whispers, her hand cupping Charlotte’s head, holding her tight. “We’ll see you on Sunday, okay?”

Charlotte nods. Ava steps back, and Sara hugs her. “Only cause the right amount of trouble, yeah?” she says, and Charlotte’s expression turns into a smirk at the same time that Ava’s turns into a slightly disapproving frown.

“Sara!”

“What?” Sara says. “Ray will keep her in line, won't you, Ray?”

“Sure will,” he says, smiling. “Call me when you need picking up and I’ll be right there.”

At that, Sara tugs Ava away. When they reach the doors, Ava looks back one more time, and then the doors close behind them, and Charlotte is out of sight.

It’s still a while before their flight, so Sara pulls her aside, into a corner, her hands going to Ava’s face. “Why are you so reluctant to leave her this time, Aves? You were fine last year on our anniversary. And we each go away for work every so often. What’s the problem? Tell me, babe.”

Ava sighs, shaking her head. “I don’t know. I think it’s just… the new baby. The thought of them is turning all my mothering instincts up to like one hundred and even know logically I _know _she’ll be fine without us for a few days and with Ray and Nora but it’s just… hard to tell my brain that.”

“Oh, baby,” Sara says, pressing up on her toes to pull Ava into a quick kiss. “It’s okay. That makes sense. But everything will be fine, yeah? Our first baby is fine with Ray. And our second baby,” she says, pulling Ava’s hand under her sweater, “is safe right here.”

Ava swallows, blinking, an obvious lump in her throat. “Yeah. Yeah. You’re right.” She looks down. “God. I can’t believe you’re showing. I can’t believe I can _feel_ it.”

Sara smiles, before gently removing Ava’s hands. “Everything’s fine. So let’s get on this flight.”

Ava nods, and Sara takes her hand again, leads them to the check-in desk. She gives their reference number, and the man types it in, then looks up. “Sara Lance and Ava Odette Sharpe to New York, yes?”

Sara nods, handing over their driving licenses. He prints out the tickets, then hands them over. “The business class lounge is to the left of the gates. Your flight starts boarding in just under an hour. Enjoy your flight!”

Ava opens her mouth, as if to say something, but Sara pulls her away.

Just before security, Ava stops them. “Sara, wait. Why did he think we can go in the Lounge? We didn’t budget for business class!”

Sara smiles. “Surprise!”

“Surprise, you spent more of the money we’re saving for our literal child than you were supposed to?” Ava asks, frowning.

Sara rolls her eyes. “No. I, uh… I called your parents about this. They couldn’t come on such short notice, since they’re so far away but, uh, they have a shit ton of air miles. So I got us upgraded.”

“Oh,” Ava says, the tension melting away. “Oh. That’s... nice of them.”

“I mean, I did kinda say they had to do _something, _so it’s not entirely on them, but yeah. They didn’t have to do anything this big. That was them.”

Ava smiles. “Business class, huh?”

“Yeah,” Sara says, walking up to security, putting her stuff in the boxes. “They give you free champagne. Which means you get _two_ glasses.”

Ava scoffs. “Don’t be silly. We’ll just get them to replace your drink with something non-alcoholic. I don’t need two glasses of champagne.”

Sara laughs at Ava’s indignation.

Later, in the lounge, they commandeer a couch, and Sara lays down as much as seems acceptable in public, her stomach doing weird things.

The angle is weird though, and eventually, Ava pulls Sara’s head down into her lap, telling Sara to properly stretch out, and she does.

“You’re pregnant,” Ava whispers, carding her fingers through Sara’s hair. “You have an excuse.”

Sara makes a noise of agreement, closing her eyes. All too soon, though, they’re boarding, and she leans heavily on Ava as they board the plane, sighing as she settles into the seat, thanking god for Ava’s parents, because it’s the nicest plane seat she’s ever sat on.

She takes one of the few painkillers their obgyn has said she can take, and it makes her even drowsier, so she spends most of the flight dozing against Ava’s shoulder, their hands linked, only waking up when Ava nudges her, hands her a steaming mug.

“I switched out your champagne for that fancy tea you like,” Ava says. Sara takes it, grateful, but as she drinks, she can see a frown on Ava’s face.

“What’s up?” Sara asks, in between sips.

Ava screws up her face. “Nothing.” Sara raises an eyebrow. “Someone else assumed we were sisters. I know we’re both blonde, but like, we don’t look _that_ alike. No-one would assume that a man and a woman who behave like we do were siblings, but once it’s two women then—“

“Then everyone gives into their biases. It’s okay, babe.” She sets the tea down, pulls Ava in for a kiss. She tastes like champagne, and when she says as much, Ava’s eyes widen.

“Wait, is that—“

“Bad for the baby? No, I don’t think the two molecules of alcohol I got from that are gonna be bad for the peanut. They’re tough,” she says, leaning against Ava again. “It’s chill.”

Ava rolls her eyes at herself. “Yeah. Yeah, no, of course.” She’s silent for a second, and then asks, “Did you sleep?”

“Yeah. I dreamt of you.”

A fond smile stretches over Ava face.

“What about me?”

“You were the swan in Swan Lake. You know— because of your name. It’s so pretty, but most of the time I forget. I guess apparently my brain ran with it today. I was the prince.”

“Siegfried?” Ava suggests immediately. Sara remembers then that Ava had done ballet, that she’d know his name.

“Yeah. Siegfried,” Sara says. She finishes the tea, closes her eyes again. “Sarafried.”

Ava laughs lightly, kissing the top of her head. “And you call me the nerd.”

“You _are _the nerd,” Sara mumbles, before she falls under again.

The next time Ava shakes her, it’s because they’re coming in to land. Sara sits up, finally feeling a little bit better, her stomach no longer twisting.

“You good?” Ava asks.

Sara nods. “Yeah. I’m good. Don’t worry about me.”

“I literally always worry about you,” Ava murmurs. “It’s in my blood. And now that there’s two of you to worry about…”

“I’m good,” Sara says, reaching out to link their hands. “Promise. I’ll always tell you if I’m not. You can trust me. We’re doing this together.”

Ava nods, a small smile on her face.

Their hands stay linked as they disembark, as they make their way through the airport to the taxi rank. Ava gives the name of the hotel, and they settle down into the back, Sara’s head on Ava’s shoulder.

The hotel room is being paid for by the conference. Sara had expected a smallish room, but it’s anything but. The bed seems almost double the size of their one at home, and when she opens the door to the bathroom, she audibly gasps.

“What? Are you okay?” Ava calls from across the room, worry in her voice. A second later, she’s by Sara’s side, a protective hand on her waist.

“The bath,” Sara says, pointing. “It’s so fancy.” It’s free standing, and seems ginormous. She eyes it up, then turns to Ava, pressing her lips together as she looks up at her. “It _definitely _looks big enough for both of us.”

There’s a twinkle in Ava’s eyes as she looks at it, then back down at Sara, before she pushes Sara back a little, against the doorway, tilting Sara’s head back, leaning forward until their lips are almost touching. “You think so?” she murmurs.

“Mmmm,” Sara hums as Ava kisses her. “Definitely.”

Ava pulls back. “You don’t want to go out for dinner?”

Sara shakes her head, finding Ava’s hands with her own, pulling her impossibly close. “I want to get fancy room service and then I want to have a fancy bath in that fancy tub with my amazingly talented and important fancy girlfriend.”

Ava smiles, taps Sara’s nose with a finger. “Okay. What do you want to eat?”

Sara shrugs. “Surprise me.” Then she pauses. “Actually. Something with lamb. I’m craving lamb.”

Nodding, Ava picks up the menu, examines it, and half an hour later, something ridiculously delicate and ridiculous delicious is delivered to their door. Sara eats slowly, because if she eats quickly, her stomach likes betraying her. So, Ava finishes before her, and makes her way into the bathroom. Sara hears the water running.

When she’s done, she scrapes her hair up into a bun, strips, moves into the doorway of the bathroom, leaning up against it. The bath is full, bubbles obscuring the water, and there’s steam floating off of it.

It takes a second for Ava to notice her, and when she does, she does a double take, her eyes darkening. “Oh!” She says, and Sara smirks, moving closer. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so… naked.”

Sara reaches her, slides her hand under the jacket Ava is still wearing, slips it off Ava’s shoulders.

“It’s a bath. Generally, it’s good to be wearing fewer clothes than _you _currently are.”

Ava rolls her eyes, but lets Sara undress her with careful fingers, her fingertips brushing over Ava’s skin as more and more of it is revealed. When Ava is finally naked, Sara smiles, presses up to kiss her. Ava’s fingers come up to cup Sara’s face, before whispering, “Can I just— can I just check. Is this like… a sexy bath or just, you know, relaxing?”

Sara laughs lightly, before gesturing for Ava to get in. “Relaxing. Bath sex requires effort. And you end up sore in really weird places and we need to be in peak condition for tomorrow. So,” she says, sinking into the water as well, closing her eyes as she’s enveloped in warmth, the heat sinking into her bones, “just relaxing.”

She’s sat in between Ava’s legs, Ava’s arms wrapped protectively around her stomach. Ava twists her head, kissing Sara’s cheek. “I can do that,” she whispers, as Sara leans into her, moulding their bodies together until they’re no longer two (three) people, but one, skin on skin with nothing but tiny amounts of water between them, hands intertwined over Sara’s stomach.

For a few seconds, they’re both silent, just settling in, and then Sara moves her hand through the bubbles, collects some in her palm, and blows, the suds flying through the air.

Ava laughs, and Sara turns, wipes the bubbles still left on her fingers over Ava’s face, and frowns for a second, before Sara twists further, kisses it away, her palm on Ava’s cheek.

Sara can feel Ava melt into it, her mouth opening, her tongue sliding over Sara’s lips. Sara twists even more, until she’s in the familiar position of Ava’s lap, pressing against her, deepening the kiss, her hand tangling in the messy bun in her hair.

Ava’s sliding down further into the water, Sara leaning forward more and more, until they’re almost horizontal, and then Ava gently pushes Sara away, sits back up. “We’re not supposed to have you on your stomach, remember?”

Sara pouts, and Ava’s fingers come up to stroke a few of the strands of hair that have fallen out of her bun out of her face. “Let me kiss you, baby.”

“I didn’t say we couldn’t kiss. Just not like that.”

“Peanut will be fine.”

“It’s not about Peanut. It’s that it’s going to be uncomfortable for you.”

At that, Sara’s expression softens, and she just lets Ava pull her back into a kiss without complaining. Ava’s hands are around her waist, curving Sara’s body into her. Her thumbs rub circles in the dimples at the bottom of Sara’s back.

After a few seconds, Ava pulls back. “We’re relaxing, remember?” Ava murmurs, and twists Sara back, so she’s resting up against her.

They spend the next half an hour chatting about anything and everything, having the luxury of not having to think about time, about Charlotte, about waking up early the next day.

The water slowly cools. Once it reaches lukewarm, Ava stretches her arm to reach some of the body wash on the side, rubs it carefully into Sara’s body, kneading her fingers into Sara’s aching muscles, every so often dropping kisses on her skin.

Eventually, Sara does the same, and then, after almost an hour in the bath, when they’re both more than drowsy, they pull the plug, watching the water slowly drain out, and then forcing themselves out, drying off quickly, pulling pyjamas on, and then falling into the bed.

It really is huge, seemingly miles across, and when Sara settles into the middle of the pillow, Ava is far too far away.

Ava is frowning as well. “I feel like this bed was made for people who don’t like each other.”

Sara smiles, pressing in closer until she’s up against Ava. She closes her eyes, breathing in Ava’s smell, and it’s more comforting than anything else ever is. “I like you,” she mumbles, burying her face in Ava’s neck.

Ava’s arm wraps around her. “Good. I mean, I’d hope that you would.”

“I like you a lot,” Sara whispers. “A lot,” she repeats, pushing the words into Ava’s skin, making her feel them, feel the vibrations. “I love you.”

Ava smiles, kisses Sara’s temple. “Love you, too.”

Sara falls asleep quickly, like she always does. The days of her struggling to sleep are over.

Nothing has ever comforted her quite like the feel of Ava’s arm around her, the sound of Ava’s breathing, the warmth of her body.

Sara wakes up to Ava already awake, her eyes wide, staring at her.

“Hey,” Ava whispers.

“Hey,” Sara says, reaching out a hand to stroke hair out of Ava’s face. “How’d you sleep?”

Ava sighs contentedly, tipping her head back into her pillow, stretching her arms out wide. “Good. This is a… really good mattress. Maybe we should get a new mattress.”

Sara smiles, finding Ava’s hand, tracing circles in her palm. “Sounds like a plan. But maybe we should wait until _after_ we don’t have a newborn baby that might be throwing up on said mattress.”

Ava laughs softly, closing her eyes. “Good point.”

Sara rolls over, looks at her phone. It’s late morning. They don’t have to be at the gala until seven. If they get out of bed now, they’ll just make it down in time for breakfast, so Sara pulls herself out from under the covers, rounds the bed, and holds a hand out. Ava takes it, lets herself be pulled upwards and into a kiss.

“Come on,” Sara says, when they break apart. “Let’s get dressed, and make the most out of this hotel’s ridiculous bottomless breakfast.”

“Mmm,” Ava hums, pulling jeans on, slipping a soft sweater over her head. It’s slouchy, cream wool, and slides down over her shoulders a little, revealing a hint of the crochet bralette she has on underneath. “I like the sound of that.”

Sara lets out a breath, sliding a finger down Ava’s collarbone. “How are you so beautiful? How do you look like _that_? We’ve just woken up.”

Ava laughs again. “I could say the same thing.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t,” Sara says, raising an eyebrow, a smirk on her face.

Ava gasps indignantly, pushes Sara towards the door, pushes her up against it, fingers on her chin, tilting her head upwards, so that she can kiss her, her mouth rough, a little possessive, as she captures Sara’s mouth with her own. “You _know _I think you’re beautiful,” she murmurs. “I didn’t think I need to _say_ that.”

Sara would’ve kept the game up a little longer, because she’s loving the fire behind Ava’s eyes as she almost growls it out, but there’s also a tiny hint of worry in Ava’s voice, a tiny tremor, so she smiles, twists her head so that she can get her mouth on Ava’s neck.

Ava’s hands rest on her waist as she sighs softly.

“Just kidding, baby. I just like riling you up a little, sometimes.”

Ava rolls her eyes, shaking her head, but she clearly can’t even pretend to be annoyed for more than a couple of seconds when Sara’s sucking down on her neck, just light enough not to leave a bruise.

“You’re a terrible person to be in love with.”

“Yeah,” Sara says, as she loops her arms around Ava’s neck, pulls her in for another kiss. “But you _are_, so.”

“So?”

“So, let’s get breakfast, and then we can explore the city a bit. I’ve never been here before.”

Ava does a double take. “You’ve never been here before? How has that not come up before?”

Sara shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s not like I was desperate to go before this. But I’m very happy that my first time is with you,” she says, her voice dripping with fondness, her fingers stroking over the nape of Ava’s neck, pulling her back in for one more kiss. “Breakfast.”

Ava nods, intertwining their fingers, opening the door. Once they’re down the hallway, in the elevator, Sara boosts herself up onto the handrail, pulling Ava closer, wrapping her legs around her waist, kissing her again.

“Sara,” Ava hisses, even as she kisses back. “This is a public elevator.”

“And it’s almost Valentine’s Day, so we’re allowed.”

But, she doesn’t particularly want to make Ava feel actually uncomfortable, so when the doors open five floors down from theirs, Sara has already slipped down, is carefully rearranging Ava’s hair, care in the light touch of her fingertips.

Breakfast is amazing, obviously, but Sara is distracted the whole time by Ava, by her smile, by the way she seems to be radiating happiness, by the way that, despite the fact that it’s Sara who’s pregnant, it’s Ava who looks like she’s glowing.

Being in New York, having had a relaxing evening and sleeping in and getting breakfast laid out for them seems to have take away all of Ava’s apprehensions about the evening, because she’s talking about how excited she is, and there’s no hint that she’s being anything but honest as she talks animatedly, her hand in Sara’s.

She also seems ridiculously excited about getting to show Sara the city. “Since we’ve only got a couple of hours, I was thinking we could just go to the top of 30 Rock. That way, you get all the views you’d get at the Empire State, but you have the added bonus of actually being able to _see_ the Empire State.”

Sara smiles wide, Ava’s enthusiasm infectious. “Sounds amazing.”

It is. After they’d rested for an hour or so after the giant breakfast, they’d wrapped up tight, hoping their coats and scarves would be enough to fend against the biting cold, and had gotten the subway twenty blocks south, before queueing for about twenty minutes, and finally making their way to the top.

The day is cold, but clear, and they can see everything, the whole city laid out for them. From the north side, they can see their hotel, and Sara leans up against Ava, Ava’s arms wrapping around her waist, resting on the bump, as they look down at it.

“I’m so proud of you, baby,” Sara whispers, before twisting around, pressing up slightly on her toes to kiss Ava. Her lips are freezing cold, and so Sara kisses for longer than she usually would in public, her hands settling on Ava’s cheeks, stroking over her skin, hoping the light movement will remove some of the chill from her face.

When she pulls back, she grabs her phone from her pocket. The Empire State is behind them. “We should get a photo. Charlotte’s gonna want proof we weren’t just holed up in the hotel the whole weekend.”

She snaps the photo, kissing Ava’s cheek, but when she pulls back, though, the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She turns slightly, there’s a middle aged woman looking at them. Sara tenses, grabs Ava’s hand, goes to pull them away, because today isn’t the day to get into any sort of situation, when the woman steps closer.

“Sorry for staring, sweetheart, you two just looked so much like my daughter and her girlfriend that I did a double take for a second. Do you two want a photo?”

Sara smiles, relieved, all the tension melting from her body as she leans into Ava for the photo.

When the wind gets too biting, they descend back down, take the subway back north, and spend an hour or so wandering through Central Park, hand in hand, before it’s time to get back to the hotel, time to get ready.

Somehow, though, they end up making out in the elevator again, are still kissing as they stumble down the hallway, as they fall into the room, Sara pushing Ava down onto the bed, straddling her as she caresses her cheek, as she pulls tiny noises from her throat.

Finally, though, Ava pushes her lightly away. Sara pouts. “How about we skip the gala and just have sex all evening?”

Ava laughs, stands up, sheds her coat, her fingers going to Sara’s buttons, discarding it as well. “I don’t think so, babe. We’re going to gala. Sex after.”

Sara’s pout turns to a smirk. “Sounds good.” She moves over to their bags, pulling out their makeup. “Hair and makeup first, right? Then dress.”

Ava nods, points to the vanity. “Sit down. I’ll do you first.”

Sara winks, and Ava rolls her eyes, before spending the next half an hour carefully applying makeup to Sara’s face, her tongue poking out in concentration. When she’s done, she looks down at Sara fondly. “You look beautiful.” And then frowns. “I mean. You always look beautiful, not just when you’ve got makeup on—”

“I know,” Sara says, her hand on Ava’s cheek. “I know. Sit down. Lemme make your hideous face presentable.”

Ava shakes her head. “Seriously, why am I in love with you?”

“You got me pregnant, so you’re stuck with me,” Sara says, sticking her tongue out. Ava goes to protest, but Sara puts a finger on her lips. “No talking. I’m working here.” Ava rolls her eyes again, but shuts up, letting Sara dust makeup across her face.

Ava squints at the colours. Her eyes are tinged a smokey gold. “Am I wearing gold? I thought you were wearing gold?” she says, confused.

“Nope. Not gold,” Sara says. She hands Ava a mascara wand, a tube of light pink, almost sheer lipstick, and Ava dutifully applies them. When she’s done, Sara gets to work on Ava’s hair, delicate fingers scraping it back from her face, twisting and pinning until it’s in a messy updo, a few curls falling in her face.

They switch places, and Sara settles back down at the vanity, pulling out her curlers. She’s about to start, and then Ava takes the curler from her hand. “Let me.”

“I can do that,” Sara protests. “It’s your night.”

“And you’re pregnant, so I get to decide what I want to do for my pregnant girlfriend, yeah?” Ava says, and the tone of her voice tells Sara that there’s no room for argument. When curls are cascading over her shoulders, Sara stands up, turning to Ava.

“You ready for the dress, baby?” she asks, her hands on Ava’s shoulders, sliding down her front a little, teasing touches that have Ava catching her breath.

Ava nods, a breathless smile on her face. “Yeah. Yeah.”

Sara goes to the garment bag, then hesitates, suddenly worried for the first time that Ava won’t like it. She turns, apprehension on her face. “What do we do if you don’t like it?”

“I’m going to like it,” Ava says, still smiling.

“But—”

“But if I don’t, I bought the dress I wore for our first Valentine’s, just in case.”

If Sara weren’t so worried, she would’ve quipped about Ava’s lack of faith in her, but all she can feel is relief, her shoulders sagging. “Okay. Good. Good. God. You’re always so prepared.”

Ava smiles. “Yeah, but I didn’t need to be. It was more a contingency in case the dress didn’t travel well. You know me. I know you’ve chosen well. I trust you, Sara. I’d trust you with my life. I can definitely trust you with a dress.”

Sara nods, smiles. “Okay. Eyes closed again.”

Ava drops the robe she’s wearing to the floor, and stands there in her underwear, eyes closed. Sara pulls the dress out, smoothing it down, before dropping it over Ava’s head again, pulling the zip closed. She looks breathtaking. It fits every curve perfectly. The leg on show is still classy.

“Fuck, Ava,” she breathes. “You look perfect.”

“Can I open my eyes now?” Ava asks.

Sara steers her towards the mirror, then says, “Yes.”

Ava’s eyes flutter open. For a second, she’s silent, and Sara’s stomach drops--until Ava’s face breaks out into an even bigger smile than before. “Sara,” she whispers, stroking her hands over the fabric. “It’s amazing. I look like some sort of celebrity. I’m not sure I’ve ever looked this fancy.” And then her face scrunches up. “Wait, this looks kinda like that dress that Taylor Swift wore a couple years ago.”

“The dress you were obsessed with for the whole first week of our relationship?” Sara asks, raising her eyebrows. “Yeah. Kinda. Obviously it’s not the exact same, but—”

“How did you remember?” Ava breathes, looking down at the dress.

Sara stares at her, confused. “You think I don’t remember absolutely everything about you? You’re one of the two most important people in my life. Obviously I remembered.”

Underneath Ava’s makeup, Sara can see that her cheeks are tingeing pink, like, even now, the depth of Sara’s love is surprising to her.

They’re constantly surprising each other.

Sara wants to spend the rest of her life surprising Ava, being surprised.

Eventually, Ava tears her gaze away from the mirror, turns to Sara. “It’s perfect. It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Fuck,” she says, and it’s obvious she’s trying to hold back tears. “I love you so much, Sara. So much.”

“I did good?” Sara asks.

“So good. So good. Wow.”

Sara smiles, then pulls out her phone. “Stand still. I have to send a photo to Charlotte. She wanted to see what it would look like on you.”

Ava gasps, indignant. “You showed Charlotte?”

“Duh. I had to get a second opinion that wasn’t you. Now, shut up and smile.”

Ava does, and Sara sends the photos off, before pulling her own outfit out of the garment bag.

Ava’s seen it before, but she still laughs lightly when she sees it. “You’ve got a thing for wrap jumpsuits, huh?” she says, toying with the fabric.

“Well, kinda,” Sara says, pulling it on, “but, mainly, this sort of thing hides the bump.”

The fabric is metallic, although expensive enough to be lined, to be protected against itchy edges. It’s tight at the wrists and ankles, and at the waist, but below that, it’s loose, and unless you knew the bump was under the loose fabric over the bottom of her stomach, you wouldn’t notice it. The neckline drops into a low v-neck, and Sara can see Ava’s eyes skating over her chest, staying there until Sara snaps her fingers good naturedly in front of her face, holds out the new necklace, the one meant to replace Laurel’s, and twists, letting Ava clasp it.

She does the same for Ava, clasping the fanciest necklace Ava owns around her neck, a graduation present from her parents, diamonds begrudgingly given, because even homophobes couldn’t deny how impressive graduating from Stanford Law School at the top of the class had been.

Ava strokes her fingers over it, takes one more glance at herself, then turns back to Sara, smiling.

“It’s seven. They said doors open now, but the dinner won’t start until seven thirty. You wanna network? Eat some tiny food? Drink for two?”

“You mean _me_ drinking for both you and me, right? Not _you _drinking for two?” Ava asks, frowning slightly.

“Yes, obviously.”

“Just needed to check.”

“No, I know,” Sara says, smiling fondly. “You’re a worrier.”

“And you love me for that,” Ava says, and Sara’s never able to deny that.

Hasn’t been able to deny that for years, practically since she met Ava.

“Yeah,” Sara says, leaning down to pull on her shoes, before looking up at Ava, tucking some hair behind her eyes. “I guess I do.” She leans closer, pressing up on her toes, their faces close, and then sighs. “I want to kiss you.”

“It would be better if I didn’t have to re-apply my lipstick before we even get there, darling,” Ava says.

“I know. That’s why I’m not kissing you right now,” Sara says, and then realises that there’s no makeup to disturb on Ava’s neck, at least not once her foundation finishes, so she tilts Ava’s neck gently, presses a kiss just below her ear.

Ava sighs quietly, leaning into it, before her eyes open, and she pulls back. “_You’re_ also wearing lipstick,” she says. “Is my neck pink?”

Sara shrugs. “A little bit,” she says, before wetting her thumb with her tongue, wiping carefully over the light pink mark on Ava’s skin until it’s gone. “There. Perfect.”

“You ready?” Ava asks.

Sara grabs her clutch, and then Ava’s hand.

“Yep. Let’s do this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive only got a few more chapters pre-written so i dont know when the next one will be up. it might not be till june when uni will be properly over and i might actually be able to get myself to start writing again. i didn't really go over this much so i hope there's not any glaring mistakes or awkward bits, but honestly i can't bring myself to read it lmao, but if you spot a spelling mistake or something just let me know
> 
> catch me on twitter @_avasharpe. im not on tumblr much anymore but i do still check it

**Author's Note:**

> lets do this, i guess? i'm on twitter @_avasharpe, and more rarely these days, tumblr at directoravasharpe. please follow me on twitter everyone is unfollowing me for being a kpop
> 
> tentatively saying next update is in two weeks but who knows tbh


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